


Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by Conduitstreetcat, TheGreenFaerie



Series: Symbiotic Criminal Psychopaths [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Childhood Trauma, Come on it's Mormor, Feelings, M/M, You know they can't keep their hands off each other, lots of other sex, mormor, warnings in specific chapters' notes, we need to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 83,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conduitstreetcat/pseuds/Conduitstreetcat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenFaerie/pseuds/TheGreenFaerie
Summary: This is the third work in the Symbiotic Criminal Psychopaths series. The first two are Kiss or Kill: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14583459 and Unholy Union: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923773It's recommended you read the other two first, as it's a continuing story and you're going to enjoy it a lot more.Kiss or Kill starts a year after Rooftop Hell, when Sebastian Moran has got sick of pining for his heartless bastard of a boss, and decided to start living again.But Jim Moriarty has other plans....A playlist for this book is available here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1UJiC3PBiCXpDU9zNMmuYY





	1. Unexploded Bombs

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist:  
> Just Like Honey- Jesus and Mary Chain  
> Happy When it Rains - Jesus & Mary Chain  
> Head On - The Pixies  
> We Move Lightly - Dustin O'Hallaran  
> Glorious - The Pierces  
> Breathe Today - Flyleaf  
> Coward - Holly McNarland  
> Lucky- Bif Naked  
> Ageless Beauty- Stars  
> Tower of Strength - The Mission  
> Dazzle - Siouxie and the Banshees  
> Stay Together (Long Version) - Suede  
> Disarm - Smashing Pumpkins  
> Tonight, Tonight - Smashing Pumpkins  
> Soma - Smashing Pumpkins  
> Dark Saturday- Metric  
> Combat Baby - Metric  
> Cuts You Up - Peter Murphy  
> A Strange Kind of Love - Peter Murphy  
> All We Ever Wanted - Bauhaus  
> Gush Forth My Tears - Hila Baggio  
> Stinkfist - Tool (from Lullaby Versions of Tool)  
> Waydown - Catherine Wheel  
> I Wanna Be Adored - The Stone Roses  
> Stop the World I Wanna Get Off With You - Arctic Monkeys  
> Super Psycho Love - Simon Curtis  
> Love Like Blood - Killing Joke  
> Falling At Your Feet - Daniel Lanois (with Bono)  
> Teardrop - Massive Attack  
> Haunted When the Minutes Drag - Love and Rockets  
> No New Tale to Tell - Love and Rockets

_Cccrrrack…_

The whip flicks against my back like a serpent's tongue, so lovingly, so _seductively_... blood is beading on my back, and there are tiny bursts of crimson when the whip hits again and again...

I'm thrashing and moaning with each lash...

I'm collapsing against my restraints...

I'm howling at the flames of ecstasy licking my back...

But then - everything stops, and I look back to see you in an open coffin leaned against the wall.

I want to rush over to shake you until you wake, but I can't break free from my restraints...

 _Jim... JIM_ , I cry... _You can't be dead...PLEASE_...

My eyes fly open. My heart is slamming against my chest.

Where Am I... _WhereTheFuckAmI_??

I look around a huge white bedroom. Huh?? White curtains are blowing gently in the breeze of the open window, and I can hear... the ocean...?

Ocean...

Mexico...

Honeymoon...

That means...

I look next to me...

to see you lying nestled in a white sheet, blinking drowsily, and beaming when you see my face.

 _Jim_...

I throw myself at you, and you let out a soft _oof_ as I squeeze you tightly.

I draw back to look at you, drinking in every detail. My heart is still pounding, but relief is slowly flowing through me. I hug you to me, sighing deeply into your hair.  
"Morning, Sunshine," I whisper, and kiss your sleepy face.

 

 

_I wake by a movement beside me – who – wait - my Seb... I'm with my Sebastian on our... honeymoon..._

_I open my eyes and can't suppress a wide beam when I see your face looking at me. And then I'm suddenly covered in Tiger and gasping for breath as you're squeezing me like one of last night's limes. You draw back, looking happy, but your heart is still beating like mad, and there's relief on your face - Oh - *that* dream. I'll never not flinch with guilt inside when I see that look on your face when you wake up. But you hug me close and kiss me and the stabbing feeling subsides quickly._

_"Morning Tiger..." I murmur. "Fucking hell, I feel like death warmed over... Still, if you can't get plastered at your wedding orgy..." Memories from yesterday come flooding back - god. The flight - the baptism - the name - the whipping (my cock stirs) - the fuck (yes, definitely stirring) - the events last night are a bit blurry, but what stands out in amazing clarity is the memory of me recarving the M on your back –_

_My cock decides that my complaining head and stomach can wait, it takes precedence, and I'm only too happy to give in. I grind my hips to you, to feel that you are in a similar state - morning Seb never disappoints._

_What to do though? In the past it was easy - most days I'd shove your head to my cock and I'd be up and ready to handle the world in five minutes - but where's the fun in that? Well. I mean, there's a lot of fun in that, and your mouth is delightful... legendary..._

_But first I need to drink in your kisses, feel your hands, stroke mine down your back - feel the plasters, the weals, dig my nails in - only slightly - to hear you gasp and moan, feel you grind against me, feel your cock rub against mine, kiss and bite your neck, have you kiss mine, until we're panting and sweating –_

_"A_ _very_ _good morning, Mr Moriarty..." I breathe. "Remember when you wanted to give me a blowjob in the shower?"_

 

 

"Oh..." I breathe. "Yes, Mr Moriarty... I remember just how much I wanted to lick and suck that beautiful cock of yours..." I have my arms wrapped around you, and I'm biting and sucking your neck gently. "...and sadly I remember being denied..." I tilt your head to access that tender spot behind your earlobe so I can nip it, make you squirm. "Have you reconsidered your cruel rejection of my offer?"

“I sit up, then pull you up to sitting. I yank you onto my lap, drawing you close with my knee, and I kiss you deeply.

 

 

_I rub myself against you, responding keenly to your kiss, in which you show off the dexterity of your tongue._

_"In light of the changed circumstances, we do feel that a reconsideration of your offer may be in the pipeline," I murmur against your mouth. "Why don't we adjourn to the adjacent lavatorial chamber, in which said proposal might be more properly reviewed in its intended surroundings?"_

_You roll your eyes and growl as you suck and bite my neck, which makes me groan with pleasure. No more delay - I need your mouth on my cock, and then I need a good breakfast and a coffee. I jump off your lap and pull you to the bathroom by your dog tags - so handy, those._

_The shower here is huge and complex - it takes me a moment to figure out what all the buttons, taps, and switches are for, accidentally spraying myself with a massage jet of cold water, making me jump and yelp, and you roar with laughter; but when I've worked out the waterfall shower and we're both under the pouring stream, kissing and nipping and licking rivulets of water off each other, the mood gets quieter and sweet. I realize that so many of our significant moments together since I've come back have taken place in the water - the first encounter with you, then the shower kiss, the beautiful sweet bath in the jacuzzi, the sea baptism... there's something about water that soothes our burning personalities, our hot tempers._

_But I am rather burning at the moment, and keen to get you down to business... Somehow a hangover always makes me demandingly horny. I look into your eyes, and lick my lips..._

I roll my eyes... "Subtle, babe. So... we're back to old patterns already? You demanding blow jobs, and me servicing you?" I ask playfully, but the look in your eye is anything but amused. You seem taken aback, and then guilty. "Shit - I'm sorry. I was only joking, babe..." I place my arms loosely around your shoulders, and give you a long kiss. "It seems like this is going to be happening all week - somebody saying the wrong thing, someone getting mad or hurt, apologies, meltdowns, apologies..."

I press my forehead to yours. "What am I saying? We're _us_ … it's going to last a lifetime. And I'm _good_ with that, Jim..."

I pull back to look into your eyes, and take your face in my hands. "And guess what? I'm also good with you pushing my head down for a blow job. Wanna know why? Because I fucking love it. I love sucking you off, I love making you come, and I fucking _love_ you wanting me to service you... Why do you think I was on my knees in the shower?" I drop down to the floor of the shower, and look up at you. "Because it's _so hot_..." I press my hands against your thighs, and look hungrily at your face, and then down your body. "So fucking hot..." I say breathily, and the next thing I know, your cock is in my mouth, your arse is cupped in my hands, and I'm sucking you hard.

 

 

_Yes, it *is* going to last a lifetime... But the other options are either suppressing your free will again or leaving you, and both are out of the question. So yeah, I'll take the meltdowns, flareups, fights and misunderstandings, because they come with apologies, explanations, kisses... and make-up sex._

_Your words before you sink onto your knees make me shiver, and then you are on your knees, again, a lifetime after the last time, and you're looking up at me, again, and things are so much better than then, I am no longer so confused, so scared... I'm safe in Mexico, in your arms, in your... mouth..._

_God Sebastian that mouth. You must have used it on me well over a thousand times, and every single time is a delight. And now, after the year in hell, after the fear of losing you, after us getting suddenly so much closer, the sensation is unprecedentedly new and so much more intense._

_I lean back against the wall of the shower, groaning with pleasure at the sensation of you using all your devilish tricks on me, making my knees weak..._

_My head is dull after last night, my brain not its usual sharp self - one of the reasons I don't drink normally - but it's fine, I'll settle for being numb in the brain and sensitive in the cock - preferable to the other way round, at least for now. I stroke your wet hair, dig my fingers in it, but don't push - I let you choose the rhythm, you're playing with me, playing with the water streaming over us, and it's a delight, and you can take all day if you like..._

 

 

You're so beautiful... you're so fucking beautiful... leaning against the wall, water running over your body, your hair, your face... your perfect face, like the offspring of an angel and a devil, with your sweet, puckish smile and your dangerous eyes... it's like a dark mythic realm is staring back at me through those gleaming pools of endless blackness...

You're watching me... Your mouth is open, you're breathing hard, you're looking down at me... oh _fuck_ , it turns me on when you watch, baby...

I stare back at you while I suck you... the heat is rising between us.

Oh _fuck_ , Jim - at this moment I just want to spend the rest of my days on my knees, worshipping you, gazing at you, longing for you...

 

You're my love, my husband, my Mine, and I will _never_ stop longing for you... it burns in my veins for you, burns in my soul…

 

You're moving against my mouth, your fingers tightening in my hair... you throw your head back, and it seems like some force has shoved you forward from the wall. Your back is arching, my hands are squeezing your tight luscious behind, you're making groaning, guttural noises that are so good, so hot...

 

Whoever thought of going on a honeymoon was a bloody genius... I grin and keep sucking to the pleasing sounds of whimpering and moaning...

_You've stopped teasing and are going to work seriously and oh lord and heavens above, it's astounding._

_It's not fair, so much talent in one amazing package. You're the best at everything you do. I wonder... why is that, Sebastian? You have extraordinary drive in everything for someone who doesn't really care about anything..._

_Something else to explore. I add it to the file..._

_I know you are not looking forward to the talking, but I *have* to, my love... I work on information, it's my resource - the raw matter that my intellect shapes into tools, currency, pathways... into my mind map..._

_And the *one thing* that I didn't map, because it was too close... and... maybe too uncomfortable for me to look into... That almost killed us both. So I *have* to, my dear, sweet, divine-mouthed Seb... I have to map you... and myself._

_Your efforts draw me from my musings, because good god you're really getting to work here, and I can't not grab your hair and move, oh my god Sebastian... I arch my back, throw back my head under the streaming water; I feel like I'm being lifted out of my body; your hands grab me and you suck so eagerly, so incredibly deeply, you... oh.... oh god.... oh Sebastian Sebastian..._

_It's good that you're holding me, and that there's a convenient pipe to hold onto, or I would crumble onto the floor of the shower; so *consuming* the sensations that sweep me, that shudder out from my crotch to bring electric bliss into every fibre of my body, then convulse again into my cock and make their rapturous way through it to pour into you. I'm convulsing, sounds pour out of my mouth, and you keep going, determined to suck every particle of pleasure out of me, and I *mewl*, put my hand on your shoulder to steady myself, panting, groaning.... my Seb... my divine Seb...._

_Come_ for me, baby, I croon silently, looking up at your face and the arc of your body, pressed towards me. And you do, you come so hard, your orgasm unleashes like a storm, and I'm swept away by it utterly - _God_ , I'd watch you in the throes of passion for hours if I could. Your face, like a fallen angel; the desperate noises streaming from your mouth; your hand pressing down on my shoulder, and then gripping me so hard as your body spasms towards me...

Your chest is heaving and you're leaning against the wall, trying to hold yourself up. I swallow with satisfaction, and stand up to hold you steady. You lean your head against my shoulder, panting.

"Was that to Sir's satisfaction?" I whisper, pushing back your wet hair, and pressing my lips to your forehead.

 

 

_"Zghmfhn," I assent, leaning on you, getting my breath back._

_The problem with this new arrangement is that I can hardly leave you in the shower to take care of yourself. But there's no way I'm going on my knees on the tiles - you like that kind of thing, I don't. Also - I don't think you'd appreciate it. Would probably feel very uncomfortable._

_I believe people use showers for washing instead of blow jobs, occasionally. Interesting concept. I get the sponge and peel off your plasters, making you moan. The wounds look good - healing well._

_I carefully wash your back with soothing áloe vera, wash the rest of you, let you wash me. Then we return to the bed._

_I'm in a lazily sexy mood - I lie you down on the bed on your side, kiss you deeply, then make my way down - biting your neck, kissing your chest, nipping at your nipples, making my way down to your cock, leisurely licking and kissing, then taking you into my mouth, my hand on your hip, moving you back and forth as I lie with my head on my arm._

You begin to suck me, and pleasure floods through me - my brain, my cock, my whole body. I revel in your wet mouth on me, your clever tongue... "Jim..." I breathe. "So good, baby..."

I slowly move my hands to your head, my fingers lightly tousling your hair. This would have been a big taboo in our past relationship, but it's what I dreamed of for four bloody years, and I'm not stopping myself anymore...

I keep my touch light, taking care not to move your head... but as the intensity mounts, as my breath comes harder and faster, as moans escape my lips, my fingers tighten in your hair.

 

 

_Your fingers grasp my hair, then release, as if shocked - oh my darling, it's alright, it's fine - I know how it feels - I put my free hand up, over your hand, squeeze it into my hair. You have permission to guide me, my love - permission to hold me as you feel your desire building - hold my head as your hips move more and more of their own accord rather than my guidance, as you start to do the unthinkable - fucking my mouth._

_And I hold my hand on your hips, guiding your movement as you hesitate, making sure you know it's *alright*, you can do this, hell, I *want* this, I want you to release your inhibitions, OK, *my* inhibitions on you - be free Tiger, let me see your desire unleashed..._

 

 

I feel like I've broken through a mighty barrier, smashed a taboo, struck down ferocious guards, and left their broken bodies behind me as I mount the steps to a forbidden temple...

I'm groaning gutturally as I fuck your mouth...

oh holy fuck, oh Jesus Christ...

I'm not going to last much longer...

my cock is throbbing intensely in your mouth, my hips are like pinions, jerking forward and back, forward and back.

"Oh baby... I'm going to come..." I moan.

 

 

_Yes, why do you think I'm doing this? I want you to come, Sebastian, I want you to come in my mouth, like you did two days ago, like you will again and again, because I *love* you coming in my mouth, I even enjoyed it before - again, the *power* you have over a man when you have his cock in your mouth...._

_But now, I have to admit, it's sheer delight at seeing your face screw up in rapture, seeing your hand claw at the sheets, feel your other hand grasp into my hair, any thoughts of that being *allowed* or not forgotten in your journey to Elysium; feeling your hips pound harder and harder, hearing your moans, your whimpers, your mewls, as I grasp your balls, just at the crucial moment, and you shout out your exultation as your seed spouts into my throat._

Oh, fuck... oh _fuck_ …

I'm lying limp on the twisted sheets, breathing hard and feeling like I'll never being able to move again...

Your head is bent over my groin, and when you look up, you appear deeply satisfied. "Does getting married make sex hotter?? Everything we've done has been totally hotter..." I pant.

You flop next to me lazily, and I pull you towards me. We curl around each other, and lie quietly for a while, listening to the waves as the white curtains blow gently in the breeze.

"Jim... I have no idea how to follow up yesterday," I confide, in a quiet voice. "What do you do when you've just had the best day of your life? Go jet skiing? Collect sea shells? Overthrow a cartel?"

 

 

_"Getting married to *me *definitely makes sex hotter," I grin. "Or you. Either of the Moriartys." I love how that makes your eyes light up..._

_I stretch out on the bed like a cat. "Unlike *some* people, I get affected when you pour lots of ethanol in me, so today shall be spent doing bugger all, except lying under an umbrella, drinking cocktails with little alcohol and lots of sugar, whilst an attractive pool boy fans me with palm fronds, occasionally getting on his knees to suck my cock. How does that sound?"_

"The Moriartys," I repeat softly. "Wow... I don't know if I'll ever get used to hearing that. Although it does sound extra scary in plural form, doesn't it? You on your own were terrifying enough..." I grin. "Oh my goodness, did you hear what the Moriartys got up to this time?? Why, they firebombed Parliament on their way to their tango lesson! They are just _the worst_ kind of people..."  
You snicker, and I take your hand, entwine your fingers with mine. "A hangover day sounds perfect. And I'll be on my knees as much as you want... but how much cocksucking do you need in one day anyway, you hot little fucker?" I nudge you with my shoulder. "Maybe there are other places I want your cock..."

 

 

_"Oh, I'm sure I can get a bit more creative once I've had breakfast and some coffee... Let's see what's in that well-stocked fridge, shall we?"_

_We go downstairs wearing shorts and t-shirts - you rummage through the fridge for breakfast foods while I, the genius, try to work out a coffee maker whose buttons wouldn't have made any sense if they were in English either. How do you 'fast-forward' a coffee? Did someone build this thing from a percolator and a cassette deck? Maybe we shouldn't have pushed Mr Álvarez out of the house so fast yesterday..._

_I work it out through experimentation whilst you make delicious smells waft through the kitchen - grease and salt, just what I need to calm my stomach._

_You suggest eating on the patio and why not indeed - we go outside to see that the debris from our orgy has been magically cleared away; clean cushions on the lounge chairs - whoopsie - I don't suspect guests *usually* get blood stains on them on the first night - the bar still in place but tidied up, the sands once again free from lime rinds, abandoned glasses, and fallen palm fronds. We sit on the patio under an umbrella, and I tuck into your cooking - some type of spicy sausages that are *delicious*, eggs, sliced peppers, beans - exactly what the doctor ordered. The coffee is alarmingly strong, but adding heaps of sugar takes care of that. I'm starting to feel a bit more alive._

_"Delicious, Tiger," I smile._

 

 

I grin at you, and eat forkful after forkful of breakfast - I'm absolutely ravenous. I get up to pour myself a second cup of black coffee, and lean back in the patio chair as I drink it. I feel content, but I realize there's a sense of worry that's chewing through my calm. What is it? It's not you and me... at last. It's not impending doom...for once.

It's... a sense of dread fills me, and my heart slams in my chest. Conversation…you wanted conversations during this trip. And I already know I'm not going to like the questions... understatement of the year. I eye you, as you finish your breakfast. You wouldn't want to bring up intense topics on only Day 2 of our honeymoon, would you? When you're feeling so hung-over? I roll my eyes, and continue drinking my coffee.

 

 

_"I can see you looking, Tiger..." I say, sipping my second coffee. "And you're thinking so loud you might as well be talking. Look - I could say I have no idea why you dread conversation so much, but I can make an educated guess. There's a *lot* of shit in your background, and you've been suppressing it for years, and you're afraid my questioning you will bring it up, and it will *hurt*. And then there's been a *lot* of shit since you've been with me, and you've always had to suppress your feelings, because I wouldn't have anything to do with them, and if that comes up, you're afraid you'll hurt me. It's so much easier just to ignore it and just continue our happy new life, isn't it? And I understand, Seb - I've kept so much under for so long too._

_But - if we don't face our monsters, we will never be able to deal with them. They will still be inside us, lurking, always forming a threat. And - the last monster I didn't face - the Love Monster, if you will - ended up almost killing us both. I hurt you *so much* by refusing to face the fact that you loved me, that I loved you - by turning a wilful blind eye, *actually* convincing myself that I was doing you a *favour* by disappearing..._

_I never want to hurt you like that again, Sebastian._

_I have always worked on information - it's that, much more than my power or my money that makes me successful. I know everything about everyone and everything - except for you. I've got your file - but that's the standard employee file, fine for general purposes, but there is so much not in there. And I could have sent people to research you further, but I never did, because what if something uncomfortable turned up? And so I lived with a man for four years that I *refused*, point blank refused, to get to know, because if I did I might discover I had *feelings* and that was unthinkable._

_We've been holding on so desperately to the ignorance - no. Sorry. *I* have been holding on so desperately to ignorance for such a long time, and - it has to stop. And I know it is not fair on you to smother any expression of your personal life for four years and then force you to unearth it. I *know*. But - that's exactly what I'm going to make you do. Because it could kill us if I don't."_

 

My heart is racing as you speak. What, I start _thinking_ about it and you bring it up in conversation? That's... not at all disturbing...

It's hard to hear it - every word.

I hate every word.

When you stop, I'm silent for awhile. "I agree with some of what you're saying. I'll agree to some of it. But maybe there are some rocks that it's not a good idea to go digging under..." I stare off in silence for a moment, then look at you.  
"But you're going to _make_ me do it?" I echo, and raise an eyebrow.

"Will this involve restraints and whips, if I don't comply?" I ask curiously. I drink from my coffee cup, staring you down.

_Fuck's sake, Tiger. I send you on incredibly dangerous missions, you just go, "Sure, boss." I beat you to within an inch of your life and you go, "It's alright." But I ask you to *talk*, and you act like I'm the most unreasonable person known to mankind. I mean, I probably *am*, but it's not like you to point it out._

_I sigh. I'm not sure how to go about this. I can't *force* you to talk - I can force *anyone* to talk, but I'm hardly going to torture you to make you confide in me. I can remind you that you vowed to *obey* - but again, probably not the best way to build trust and love. Fuck, like *I* am any better at this than you are?_

_"Sebastian... Damn it, I'm hardly the expert in couples' communication, am I? Trust me, this is going to be fucking hard for me too. There is so much... well I'm at least as fucked up as you are, aren't I? There's so much I haven't thought about in fucking decades - that's all coming back now, because of *feelings*... I- I try not to think about it too much, but I'm - walking on a knife's edge, Seb... I feel that I'm on the verge of breaking down constantly... it's fine when we're distracting ourselves with sex and drink and drugs, but - that's not sustainable - it's *not*," I say, when I see you raise an eyebrow. "I - you saw bits of it, when I get overwhelmed with guilt - and... I can't keep that up Sebastian - I just can't. I need to - need to know about you, how you felt, how I hurt you, so I know how to not hurt you in the future. And - I need to - I need to tell you stuff. I think. I've never told anyone anything - told psychiatrists either nothing or what they wanted to hear, and - well - I hardly have friends I meet for a night on the pub, but - I think I need to talk - or I'll go crazy - I'm sorry, Seb..."_

 

 

I’m listening to you in horror, and for once it’s not about my resistance to talking about my feelings, and my past.

I’m realizing I haven’t been thinking about you at all, since the flight… how you’re feeling, how you’re dealing with… everything. As soon as we landed, as soon as we arrived at this amazing place, I have thought of nothing except the next drink, the next line, the next fuck… and would have continued to do so today, tomorrow… I can’t say for how long, because I probably wouldn’t like the answer very much, or what it says about me.

Now I’m hearing you say:

_I feel that I’m on the verge of breaking down constantly…_

_I get overwhelmed with guilt- and I can’t keep that up- I just can’t._

_I think I need to talk- or I’ll go crazy-_

…and it’s like having my heart ripped from my chest.

My face creases with sorrow, guilt, worry… I bow my head down and look down at the ground beneath my feet, focusing on breathing and not panicking.  
I did this… I made you feel… I did this… _I can’t let you go through this alone…_

I take a long, shaky breath, and look up at you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t think - it felt so good to stop thinking, and stop hurting… You’ve been so good to me, and - I wasn’t thinking at all about what you were going through.”

I move forward, and kneel in front of your chair. I take your hands in mine.

“Whatever you need… I’ll do. Whatever _we_ need…. I’ll do. But, Jim - please don’t take it personally if I’m resisting, or being reactive, or getting angry, or freaking out… I don’t know how else to be…” I look at you, bewildered by the direction we’re heading in. “Baby - I don’t know how else to be…”

 

 

_Your face is changing from pissed off to surprised to shocked, to sad and worried; and I can follow your thought journey - you hadn't thought about me. You're doing the exact same thing as I was doing before the rooftop disaster - pushing away anything that makes you think too deeply, that might upset the apple cart. You don’t want to disturb the first fucking bit of genuine happiness you've managed to carve for yourself in years. And it breaks my heart to make you do exactly that, but I can't not, sweetheart, and putting it off is not going to make it easier - and it will make it riskier._

_The realization is hitting you by the look of it; you're nearly freaking out, and you kneel before me - my love - and you promise you'll do whatever I need, as always, but this is *so* much harder on you than taking a bullet or a knife... But you want to do it, because you realize that *I* am hurting._

_Oh god Sebastian, every time I think I can't love you deeper..._

_I take you in my arms, move forward so you are between my legs and your head is against my chest. "My love... I know. It's going to be *so fucking hard*. But if we're going to survive being together - we have to. At the moment, we're walking around with unexploded bombs inside ourselves, and we're volatile enough at the best of times - if these go off, there's no telling what they'll destroy - but it's going to be me or you or both, and none of these are acceptable._

_You're hoping to leave them buried and praying that nothing will set them off - I'm more in favour of controlled detonation. It'll still be scary, and we're bloody likely to be shouting and cursing and stuff but - that's why I wanted the marriage in place first. Because no matter what happens, even if I freak out, rage and scream at you - *I am bound to you*. I *swore* I would love and cherish you whatever. And I will keep that vow, even if it turns out that you were the fecker who did a hit and run on my cat when I was eight. What I mean is - our bond is unconditional, and will prevail, no matter what. There will be skeletons falling out of closets, I'm expecting - but we have already pre-forgiven each other, as it were._

_No matter what you've experienced, no matter what you've done, no matter what you *will* do - I will always love you. I made a vow. And Jim Moriarty never breaks his word._

_And me - I've done the worst. And I expect that remembering that will bring up a lot of rage in you, and desire for revenge. And - that's fine. Because in the end - you will forgive me, and kiss me, and share my bed. And it's that thought that gives me the courage to go through with this."_

 

 

You’re holding my head against your chest, as I’m on my knees before you. Your words are beautiful, my love, so beautiful-

The mention of _controlled detonation_ makes me simultaneously want to suck your cock for the way your mind works, and also run far far away for the way your mind works. Jesus… you’re not looking to take a tour of our wounded psyches, and then get out… you want to go to the darkest, deepest places, where our demons live… and then blow them to kingdom come.

I don’t know how I’m going to do this, I don’t know how… how can I? I haven’t even thought of those days in a lifetime, let alone talked about them…

It’s your words on marriage that get me, in the end. I’m so relieved that you not only understand, but expect, that there will be freaking out on both our sides.

 

And then are the words that I tuck next to my heart for safekeeping:

Bound to you…

Unconditional…

Pre-forgiven…

_I will always love you. I made a vow. And Jim Moriarty never breaks his word._

_In the end, you will forgive me, and kiss me, and share my bed…_

Yesss, Jim…always.

I lean back from your chest so I can look at you.  
I have no words to say, that could possibly match yours.  
You already did the impossible to get me to agree to this, and now… you’ve given me a new mission to show just how deep my love goes… It’s the most challenging, most terrifying mission I’ve ever begun, but- I do this for you, Jim…

“Where do you want to start?” I waver on _start_ , but your hands squeeze mine reassuringly.

 


	2. The Fucked-up History of James Moriarty, Psychopath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter deals with Jim's childhood, which, as you can imagine, was not pleasant. He doesn't go into detail, but don't read if you are uncomfortable with references to the topics below. Don't read the topics if you're uncomfortable with spoilers.  
> We will give a summary of this chapter at the start of the next so you will be able to continue reading if you've skipped this chapter.
> 
>  - child abuse  
> \- attempted infanticide  
> \- incest  
> \- suicide

_"Well - first of all, if we're going to do this, we're going to do it in style - not on a patio among half-eaten breakfast," I say and kiss your forehead, your hand, help you get up. "You put the dishes into the dishwasher, and pack us a cool box with drinks, I'll set up our headquarters. Not just alcohol for me please - I need lots of sugar. But I know you, my love - you pour as much rum inside yourself as you need."_

_I know this is probably going to be one of the hardest things we've ever done, so I'm determined to set up the surroundings as pleasant and supportive as we can - like some kind of mental sanitarium. I'm going to build us a nest on the beach. The lounge chairs are pleasant but they have stupid arm rests unless they're completely flat and I want *nothing*_ _in between you and me._

_I put one of them on its side, dig its legs into the sand to make a back rest, lie towels before it. Then I go into the house and pile loads of pillows and cushions onto the enormous duvet, fold it around them, and carry the whole lot onto the beach where I pile them in front of the overturned lounge chair, wrapping the duvet around the pillows so they won't shift, then covering the whole thing with towels, and lining towels on the sand. There. That gives us the option to lie flat in the sand or sit back in comfort, whilst cuddling as close as we want. I get an umbrella and place it so it casts its shade on the whole area - even you are getting sunburnt, and I definitely have to hide my porcelain skin from the evil rays._

_You're carrying the cool box over to the bar, looking appreciatively at my handiwork. I get back inside to get more towels - fortunately the villa has enough towels to dry off a small village - and rummage in the escritoire until I find a stapler. Back outside, I start wrapping towels around the palm tree nearest our nest, using the stapler to keep them tight. You approach with the cool box and drop it down next to the nest, sit down on it, looking at me puzzled, finally asking, "What on earth are you doing to that tree?"_

_"I know you, Tiger," I reply, adding more towels to the wrapping. "When you get upset, you get aggressive. When you get aggressive, you punch stuff. The choices here are either me - which you'll probably want to avoid - or a tree. And since I am very fond of your hands, I'm softening up the tree option. Also, chances are_ _I_ _will want to punch stuff, and I thought I'd try a different approach than my usual taking it out on you. Unless you insist, of course."_

_There. Not bad for an improvised punch bag._

_I turn to you. We have our shady nest. We have drink. We have a padded tree. And we have each other. I walk over to you, pull you onto the towels, hold you close._

_Baby_ … I’m in fucking awe of you… I was willing to follow you into hell right then and there as we spoke, and then you went and did _this_ … is there no end to your genius? I feel safe here. I feel loved here. I’m hidden away from the world nestled in a cocoon, in your arms, and I have no words.

Oh. I have no words…  
Which is a problem.

Um…

Think of something…

Seb?

 _Seb_.

“Thank you for doing this…” I say, softly. “Really… I didn’t think anything could make me feel like - not freaking out before we even started, but… it’s making a huge difference. Thank you, my beautiful genius… I’m so lucky to have you.”

I kiss your lips, press my forehead to yours, close my eyes.

“So… what to do you… want… to know?” I whisper.

My heart pounds.

 

 

 _I feel your heart racing like I don't know *_ _what*_ _is going to happen. My poor love, what am I putting you through? What demons lie hidden under that perfect skin? You're looking at me with eyes wide with fear, and that is just silly, that is ridiculous, Sebastian Moran does not feel fear *_ _ever*_ _\- have I found your one weak spot?_

 _What on earth *_ _happened*_ _, my darling?_

_I feel like an ogre for putting you through this; I wish I could take it off you, do it for you - but I have my own demons to uncover... and they've been waiting for a very long time._

_I shudder. I can do this - I can face this - I think I can - I must. I've woken them up, and I don't think I can get them buried again - unless I completely lock myself off from my feelings again. And that would mean losing - this-_

_I look at your eyes, try to imagine, to remember, looking at them without feeling these warm soft loving feelings and I don't want that, I never want that back, that bleak, ashen existence..._

_No, I can do this. But can you?_

_"If you like - I could start... It seems only fair... I'm just... "_

_That's it - I'm being hurled back, I'm a teenager again, frightened, ashamed, guilty, desperate._

_"I'm scared, Seb. That you'll... despise me. Anything else I can deal with. Them ripping me apart - it's fine. But - promise me, Seb? Promise you - won't - leave me?"_

_Tears are running down my face. I'm beginning to crack open all over, and it's going to pour out of me, and it's going to be ugly, and it's going to hurt *so much*_ _, and the only way I can come out the other end is if I know that you're there..._

You’re looking into my eyes, and you seem so troubled, so sad… and again, I feel terrible for not better at this… it’s hardly fair for you to take this on, when you know how to deal with emotions even less than me… and that’s saying a lot.

But then you decide you’ll go first...

I want to cry out, “No, no! I’ll do it, I’ll go first!!” but I’m frozen.

And then a look comes over you, and it’s too late to insist I throw myself on the sword for you… far, far too late…

Because you’ve already started to feel it rise up in you… what you needed to share with _somebody_ , with me, with your love…

But it’s mixed up with fear, such fear… that I’ll despise you? Leave you??

I listen with horror, and I want to shout, Never… _never_ would that happen, but the dam bursts, and why can’t I get any words out, and now you’re crying so brokenly, and _fuckfuckfuck_ , take care of this Seb, _FuckingTakeCareOfHim,Seb!!_

“Oh Jim, no - baby, no - I could _never_ despise you. Don’t you know that?” I cry out, desperately trying to reach you. “Don’t you know how much you mean to me? You’re the sun and the moon and the stars… you’re the sky and the land and the sea… Can you despise the sky and the stars? Never, baby... _never_ …”

I pull you to me. I kiss your lips. I hold you close.

I cradle your head in my hands, as I whisper next to your ear.

“I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it to believe me. I would never leave you… I could _never_ leave you… it would be like leaving my own soul, after I just got it back…” I say, my voice shaking at first, and then strengthening as I go on. “Please, baby - I’m here with you. I will _always_ be here with you. Tell me _everything_ you need to tell me, until you’re done. Let me be your strength - find safety in me…find rest in me… find the place where you can finally let go... And after - you’ll be somewhere new, and so will we.”

I press my lips to your tear-stained cheek, and wait for you to begin.

_I can't do this._

Yes you can Jimmy.

_Go away. You're dead._

You can do this Jimmy. You're a strong man.

 _I'm *_ _not a man*!_ _I'm a little boy! I'm a little boy and it *_ _hurts*_ _..._

You're not a little boy, Jimmy... you're a grown man. You built an Empire. You got a husband of your own. Mammy is so proud of you...

_Husband._

_Tiger._

_Tiger holding me, waiting for me._

_Tiger is here, won't let me go, won't let me fall, won't leave me..._

_I can speak to the sea in front of me, let all the words fall into the receding tide, to be carried away by the water..._

_Words... Where are my words? How do I start describing the fucked-up history of James Moriarty, psychopath?_

_I suppose at the start... Right... Here goes, Tiger. I'm so sorry._

_"Despite your regular assertions to the contrary, I am not, in fact, a bastard," I manage. Oh well done Jimmy. Start with a quip, break the ice. Also start at the beginning. Two points to Moriarty._

_"My dad married my mam when she fell pregnant with me. Never forgave me for it. He broke my arm when I was an infant, my collar bone when I was two._

_My mother thought another baby might calm him down. She was wrong. He beat her up all the time when she was pregnant, but Georgie came out healthy and well."_

_I smile. "He was such a beautiful baby - and so happy. Always smiling when he saw me. I used to hold him and sing to him when mam and dad were fighting. It'd stop him crying. I'm sure his first word was 'Simmy'."_

_Tears are running down my face, as the words pour out of me, carrying the memories, the memories I have kept locked in the basement of my soul for so many years, unleashed now and tearing me apart, slashing through my internal organs like Wolverine on a rampage._

_"Dad tried to gas him in the oven when he was three. I was beating him, crying, trying to get him to stop, but he didn't. Mam walked in, got Georgie out. He was unconscious, but lived. That's when she finally walked out. Took me and Georgie and just left._

_We stayed at friends' places. Not all the friends were nice. If mam found out, we'd move on. Finally the council got us a place. It was a shithole, but it was better than moving around."_

 

 

I’m listening, trying not to cry. Seeing you talk about your baby brother... _Jim_... I’ve never seen you like this, even when you’re being sweet to me...

Your tears are falling hard and fast now, and I’m holding you so tight, caressing your back so gently... and then... you reveal what your father did. And my tears spill down my cheeks, my shoulders are shaking.

I can’t break down, I must be strong for you. I breathe deeply, slow my heart rate... (shove the feelings of blackness into a deep, dark place... later... _later_!!) and when you pause, I make a reassuring sound against your shoulder. “I’m here..” I whisper. “I’ve got you, Jim...”

 

 

_"Get me a... drink," I gesture at the cool box, not looking at you, holding on to your leg, because you'll need your hands to make the drink, but if I lose contact with you, I'll break into myriad tiny particles and be blown away by the wind._

_You make a rum and coke - half each - and I gulp it eagerly. Then you light a cigarette and offer it to me wordlessly. I inhale deeply, exhale shakily, settling back in your embrace._

_There is no stopping now._

_"Mam said I was the man of the house now. She'd come to my bed for cuddles if she'd had a bad dream, wanting me to comfort her. Then... it wasn't just cuddles. I didn't understand. I loved her. I wanted to make her happy; even if it hurt."_

 

 

I inhale deeply, but the cigarette is forgotten in my hand. I’m not sure if I should be silent, give you space to let the words out, let the truth out at last... (all this time, Jim??) Or should I speak?

 _Fuck_ , I need a map for this, and I have _nothing_... (Shut up, Seb... listen...) _Exhale_... I nod reassuringly, and continue to lightly caress your back.

 

 

_"So we lived like that for a while. Sometimes she had boyfriends and left me alone. One of them didn't. She kicked him out._

_Georgie did very well at school. I was mostly bored._

_When I was.." my voice breaks. I take a big gulp of the drink. I notice my hand is shaking. You're holding on to me, stroking my back, and that is what keeps me anchored to earth, to my body._

_"When I was twelve..." I take a deep draught from the cigarette. There's no stopping now. Just postponing. But it's there. It's in my mind's eye. I see it. Must get it out before it breaks my brain._

_"When I was twelve. I noticed Georgie was acting odd. He was always so cheerful, but he turned sullen, sallow. I checked him. And... she'd been hurting him. Like she had me._

_I killed her. I loved her. But she was wrong. I had to."_

_Exhale_ … so there it is... that rotten truth that has been suffocating you from within, all this time... oh, _Jim_...

I make a sound in my throat, but I _think_ it's not time for words yet... oh please don't let me make a mistake...

I squeeze you gently, because you need _something_ from me, _something_ … tears are streaming down my face, and I cradle your head tenderly.

 

 

_"They locked me up after that. Tried to break me. Tried to break my brain." I'm shaking, I can feel it. The cigarette is burnt up. I hold out my hand, you light another, give it to me._

_"It was an ultra-secure facility, for mentally damaged violent boys. I was small. I was a target, they thought. They were wrong._

_They kept me in isolation after that. Doctors kept prying me, poking my brain. That's when they mentioned psychopath._

_That's where I learnt acting. I let them believe what they wanted. Let them believe they'd broken me. Said what they wanted me to say; behaved like they wanted me to behave._

_They put me in a different ward, ultra-high security. There was a guy there. Attacked me. I let him, didn't resist, acted the scared little boy._

_That's when I noticed I could ignore pain. Compartmentalize it. Physical pain is easy. I could let him fuck me up completely and keep acting, crying, begging. He believed he had won._

_When I'd worked out the locks, I visited him, bit through his windpipe. Then got out."_

 

_Breathe in, breathe out_ , that's all I need to do... and listen... hear it all... be what you need... I can do this.

 _Oh, Jim..._ I wish I could swoop into your past like an avenging fucking angel, and destroy all those who had fucked with you. The blackness is bubbling up again, and I shove it back ( _NOT FUCKING NOW, SEB!!_ ). I watch your face. I caress your back. I breathe in and out.

 

 

_I can feel your rage rising. Yeah, you and me both, Seb..._

_"I lived on the streets for a couple of years. Worked as a whore. Tried to find Georgie. It was hard. I couldn't very well walk into Child's Protection and ask to see his file._

_It took me three years to track him down. I found the lady who'd taken him in. She was... kind, I suppose. Professional. A bit cold._

_She said he was a very silent child. Kept to himself. Didn't have many friends at school._

_He was with her for three years. Then-" my voice is barely over a whisper. I force the words out - they have to get out, or they'll suffocate me._

_"-she found him one morning. He'd cut his wrists. Bled to death._

_He'd written me a letter. She didn't keep it. Couldn't tell me what it said."_

_I'm shaking so much now I'm struggling to drink. I spill the sticky stuff all down my chin, my chest._

 

 

I pull off my shirt silently, wipe away the stickiness from your face. I pull off your shirt next, then press against you - skin to skin. It feels better. I hope it feels better for you... I'm breathing like someone who has just finished sobbing, even though the sobs are all inside, fighting to break free. I need to give you time to finish... this is _your_ time, not mine... just breathe...

 

 

_"The only two people I'd ever loved were dead. I thought about ending it there and then. But I was angry. I was fucking furious at the world. I wanted my revenge._

_A trick said he was going to London, offered me a ride. I never looked back._

_I swore I'd never love again. And I never did. It kept me safe. It kept me sane. Ish._

_Then you... broke all my defences. And when the walls broke - they came back. And then - when you - threatened to cut your wrist-"_

_I'm shaking so violently now I'm not even going to try to pick that glass up, much as I need the alcohol._

 

 

A sob breaks free, and I cover my mouth. "I'm sorry," I moan, tears squeezing from my eyes.. "I'm so sorry..." I'm still holding onto you , but it feels like you're going to break apart. "I will never do that again.." I whisper fiercely. "I promise..."

 

 

 _I don't know what to do now. What to think. What to feel. I just feel - shaky, and empty. I'd expected more from the catharsis that is supposed to come from confession. My body feels like it's gone through a wringer. My mind is a mess of static electricity. My heart is torn open, only held together by your arms. If you'd let go, I think it'd break into four pieces - one for Mam, one for Georgie, the biggest one for you - and one shrivelled misshapen piece for the little boy Jimmy. I haven't thought of him in years - decades. I locked him away more securely than the Garda ever could. I look at him curiously - shaking, hurt, terrified, and_ _so_ _angry - and find I can *_ _almost*_ _forgive him. He looks like Georgie, a bit. But he failed Georgie._

_And with that thought, I break. Huge sobs wreck my body as I try to cry out my grief - but find I can't; my body is just spasming, tears stream down, my torso convulses, but no sound comes out. I'm holding onto your arm, my knuckles white, my eyes wide with panic - something must out, but it won't._

 

 

There's a pause...silence... and somehow I _know_ … _calm before the storm_ , I think desperately, and prepare myself for the winds and rain to unleash. I've never seen crying like this since... since... (not your turn, Seb!!), and I'm panicking, holding you, weeping, whispering your name, then fighting _back_ against the panic (Seb! be strong!!), letting it go, and just being there for you, strong, so strong... don't let him go...

"It's OK, sweetheart... I'm here, I love you, you can let go... I've got you, baby..." I whisper. "You already survived it... I'm not going to let it get you... it's ok to just let it go..."

 

 

 _I don't need your fucking *_ _permission*_ _, I think, but apparently I did, because something breaks free and I *_ _scream*_ _. I can see the sun is shining and the waves are calm, but there is a filter overlaying the image that shows the palms breaking under the wind, dark clouds rushing through the sky, leaves ripped off and being hurled across the sand, lead-coloured sea being tortured into waves the size of houses, and the wind takes my voice, takes my pain, drags it out of me - I howl and bellow, my lungs ache, my throat is rasped raw, and still I scream, *_ _pain*_ _wrenching my body as it makes its way out from my toes and the tips of my fingers, scouring every one of my nerves, making its way up to my vocal cords where it is given voice, finally, after so many years; *_ _screaming*_ _, screaming, screaming, until I have no lungs left, no throat left, just burning, and still I try, until I collapse onto the beach, into the sand, just sobbing. I hadn't realized I'd got up - but I'm in the wet sand, near the waterline, letting the salt of my tears mix with the rivulets of sea water._

 

 

oh god... the screaming is so full of pain, so full of sorrow, so full of rage... it feels like it could rip through reality, create something new, dark, terrifying... oh god, oh my sweet Jim... so much pain... _so much pain_... and suddenly you're collapsing into the sand, crawling forward towards the water... I'm scrambling after you, but not stopping you... I think you need this... to let it to go into the sea, let the sea wash away all that wretched sorrow and pain... I'm on my knees in the sand behind you, watching you... but I can't not touch you. I _CAN'T_ … my hands are on your back, as you cry and cry, and my shoulders are shaking again, until I can't bear it any longer, and I'm quietly sobbing at watching you in so much pain...

_Hands –_

_who –_

_*Tiger*_ _._

_My Tiger is here. He promised he would be. He is. He hasn't fled from the matricide, the whore, the oath breaker._

_He held me together when I was falling apart. And he's still holding me._

_I want to crawl into the sea and let her wash me away, but I know you won't let me. So then let's crawl into the sea and wash - all this away._

_I turn, look at you, and you understand, of course you do; and again it's the water, the water washing me, not - healing me - I don't think anything can - but... cleansing me, as I crawl forward into the sea, until it's deep enough to swim, and you follow me, so closely, watching my every move._

_I dive, immerse myself in the salty water, rinse my mouth, rub my hands through my hair, trying to dislodge all the poisonous thoughts from my brain, washing them away. I rub and rub the skin over my heart, trying to wash out the pain from there, wash my entire body, my arms, my legs - I contort and you *_ _understand*_ _, you're my psychic guardian angel; you wash my back, ensuring that every bit of my sinful wretched frame is washed clean of its past - empty symbolism, a useless gesture, but it calms me down enough that I can stand up, see your face for the first time - you look shocked, sad, you've cried - you're still crying - and I can grab you, feel you *_ _are*_ _still there, and feel your arms around me immediately, as if you want to confirm._

_My Tiger. My Sebastian._

 

 

This is a deeper cleansing than before... the first time we bathed in the sea was just the beginning... there are so many layers of wounding, darkness, despair... I wash away this current layer, my body convulsing with sobs. When you turn to face me, you look almost surprised, and you throw yourself against me, and you're back in my arms. "I'm so sorry you went through that, baby..." I weep. "I'm so sorry..." I'm trying not to cry, but how can I stop??

 

 

_Tiger... crying? Crying for me? Sorrow instead of hatred? Contempt? How..._

_You said you'd be here. You kept your promise. But this is more. You want to be here. You want to love me - still. How?_

_You're hurting - because I'm hurting. How does that work? Is hurt - contagious? *_ _Compassion*?_ _Since when do we feel compassion? Does it come with love?_

_I'm - truly empty now, and shivering in the water, so I let you guide me back to the shore, holding me so closely, towelling me dry, careful not to let go of me, sitting me down, handing me my drink and another cigarette, holding me in your strong warm arms, and finally - I feel - nothing._

_I rest my head against your shoulder, completely spent._

 

 

I'm still not sure when to begin speaking.... how long do I leave you your silence? The cigarette is hanging limply from your fingers - I take it, inhale. I cup your hands in mine, bring the glass to your lips. "Have a sip, my love" I say softly. You do. It seems to break the spell I was under. I shiver, feel something dark and terrible recede out with the waves... as if being belonging to a dark, terrifying underwater kingdom... but no longer having any place on this beach. I glare out across the sea, make sure it doesn't return with any waves...

Satisfied, I turn my attention back to you, and kiss your forehead.

 

 

_You're helping me to drink, and it soothes my throat. I look at the cigarette, but don't take it back - don't think I could handle the smoke, much as I long for the numbing it brings._

_"I..." I croak. Frown, take another sip. "That... never told that. Kept it buried. Never thought about it - but - all came back and... thanks Tiger. Thanks for - holding me through that. I'd have - exploded... Never shown weakness like that... And you... just stayed. You really do love me. Love me when I'm odious. Love me when I'm pathetic. I can't... say..._

_I'm at the lowest, deepest point I've been in ages. And to find that you are here - just dove in with me... Holding me together..."_

_Tears again - I thought I'd be dry by now. But they don't burn as much as the previous ones._

_"Thank you Tiger. You - I have done nothing to deserve you. But I am so incredibly grateful you are here."_

 

 

My arms are wrapped around you – I’ve been trying to balance giving you space, and making sure you know I’m here, but I have no idea how I could not touch you - it doesn't feel possible. I was going to be all reassuring and sweet, but something in me has snapped with your last words.

“It’s not _weakness_ , baby…” I say, fiercely. “The fucking things you lived through… after everything you went through, you found a way to survive, and be strong… you've become the man you are today, the man I would die for, kill for, go to hell and back for. Jim…you’re a fucking survivor, and I couldn’t be prouder of you. I’m so grateful that you got through it any way you had to, and that it brought you here. To me.” I take your face in my hands. “Nothing will make me stop loving you. Do you hear me? _Nothing._ You are not _odious_ or _pathetic_ , the fucking lowlifes who hurt you are the odious pathetic ones,” I snarl and stare into your eyes, feeling flames rise up in me, wanting to unleash them against someone… something… Then I blink, as I realize my fingers are squeezing your face, and I loosen them. “Sorry… I’m sorry, baby… it’s just _a lot_ , and I’d really like to hurt something right now… And please - put any thoughts of ‘deserving’ me out of your head, because there’s nowhere else on the fucking planet I want to be than with you. You are my _everything_. And I’m in fucking awe of you.”

 

 

 _Part of me wants to snap back at you that it *_ _is*_ _weakness and to stop the self-help pop psychology - the other part wants to believe you so badly._

 _But both parts are soothed and wrapped up in the warmth of your words saying that nothing will make you stop loving me, that you still want to be with me, that you're in fucking *_ _awe*_ _of me._

_My mind is too raw to ponder this too much. I'll just take the comfort._

_You're squeezing me and I feel you trembling with rage - of course. How would I respond if I were to hear such stories from you? And I'm the unemotional one. But I'm so relieved, so immensely glad, that all your rage seems aimed at others, not me._

_"Tiger, my love - you want to have a go at the tree, before you explode?"_

 

 

I find myself looking at you, blinking in surprise. I keep blanking out, falling back into that blackness... if I let go, it will consume me. "I will... but I wanted to wait until the... right time?" I finish, lamely. "I mean - I didn't want to get up until you were ready..."

 

 

_"You're bruising my jaw - part of me wants you to beat me up, but that would make you feel guilty, probably, so - just have a go at the tree, get it out of your system. I'll have a drink, watch you punch - it's good to watch, even if it's just an arboreal recipient."_

 

 

I laugh darkly. "You think? All right, tree it is."

I kiss you on the forehead. I throw aside pillows, and stalk towards the padded tree. I stand before it, eyes closed. Breathing deeply. "Motherfuckers..." I say in a strangled voice.

Suddenly I'm pounding away at the padded bark, and I think I have been for a while, because I don't remember starting, and where is that ungodly roaring coming from? It's terrifying... it's... I stop abruptly, hearing it echo on the waves. I look back at you. You're watching me, hunched over in the sand, cupping a glass in your hands. You look so sad, so small...

I launch myself at the tree again, and the sound... the _sound_...

 

 

_It's always a magnificent sight to see you beat someone or something up, but this time it's... hard to watch. There is so much pain in your expression, in your fury, in your raging roar, pain on my behalf. I made both of us suffer, and though I know it's needed, it's still hard to watch._

_You look back at me and I can read your face, always... Rage. Love. Helplessness. Protectiveness. Motherfucking pity - I can do without that, Tiger..._

_Or - can I? There's a small voice inside of me that *_ _welcomes*_ _the pity, that has been waiting for it for thirty years, that soaks it up like scorched earth absorbs warm summer rain._

_I shiver despite the heat, take another sip of the drink, watch you manifest your rage and impotence in violence._

 

 _Powerless_ … so _POWERLESS_ … I could be the strongest, fastest, scariest, most deadly _thing_ on the planet, and I would _still_ not be able to protect you when you needed it most, when you were vulnerable and small...

Now I'm on my knees in the sand, and how do I keep losing time like that?? My face is pressed to the trunk of the tree, and I'm weeping into the padding. Weeping for everything you went through, weeping for everything I couldn't stop from happening, everyone I could not tear limb from limb for you... oh, god... Jim…

My crying is piteous and broken, and it makes me think of- NO. NOT YET. This is for Jim... go back to him...

I breathe in and out, in and out... and haul myself up, feeling like I've run an emotional marathon through broken glass. I return to where you sit, fall down next to you, grab a bottle from the cool box, and drink deeply.

"I'm done... for now..." I say in a ragged voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist: 
> 
> Control - Halsey  
> Come Little Children - Erutan  
> Alison Hell - Annihilator  
> In My World - Anthrax  
> Gasoline - American Avenue  
> Cure for Optimism - Porcupine Tree  
> A.D.I / The Horror of It All - Anthrax  
> Alive - Pearl Jam  
> You've Got the Love - Florence and the Machine  
> The Day That Never Comes - Metallica


	3. My Dark Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've skipped the last chapter, here's a summary:  
> Jim has built a comfortable nest on the beach, but Seb is still very tense. Jim offers to go first, and talks about his traumatic childhood; telling Seb how he killed his abusive mother and his brother committed suicide. Both Jim and Seb are very raw after this - Jim screams his pain into the world and tries to wash it away in the sea; Seb works off his anger by punching a tree Jim has padded with towels.  
> This chapter starts after Seb's finished punching and is coming back to sit with Jim.

_I snuggle up to your sweaty shoulder. "You're protecting me *now*_ _. That's what counts. Ever since you have been aware of my existence you have been protecting me. I wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for you. You're protecting me, loving me, holding me together - healing me, Tiger. I would still be a fugitive if it weren't for you. Running from my paranoia, from my nightmares, from my feelings. You made me feel safe, protected. You held the nightmares at bay. And now - you've proven that even feelings don't necessarily destroy me._

 _I'm so sorry you're suffering. I can understand. You - the whole reason for your *_ _existence*_ _is to protect me, or so you believe. I can understand how you must feel._

_Heh - look at that. James Moriarty all empathetic. You do work miracles, Tiger."_

I shiver… it still surprises me when you know exactly what’s going through my mind, although I guess it shouldn’t after everything we’ve been through. I listen to you speak as you curl against me, my arms automatically circling you. You sound more like yourself… that’s _something_ , isn't it? I exhale long and hard. “Don’t worry about me,” I say gruffly. “You and our relationship are my mission, remember? I protect us, no matter what.”

I look at you and soften. “I don’t know about miracles, but if I’ve done anything to make this less terrible for you, then I’m glad… relieved…” I sigh. “I just wish I had more of a clue about this stuff... how to make things better.”  
I look out at the waves, running my hand gently over your back. “What do you need now, baby?” I look at you intently.

 

 

_What do I need?_

_Always your first question, isn't it, Sebastian..._

_"I... have no idea. I feel - empty. In a good way - just - drained. But - my mind is quiet. That doesn't happen much. It's - good. I'm happy to just sit here for a bit. Just - you, and the sea, and a drink. No thoughts. Just - rest._

_Is that OK for you?"_

_I look up at you - you're not the sit quiet and do nothing type. You're infinitely patient - you'd have to be as a sniper and someone who has *_ _anything*_ _to do with me - but for leisure you prefer your distractions. Of course._

_But - you'll do anything for me. So I sit and watch the waves recede, listen to the breeze through the fronds, feeling the soothing steady rhythm of your heartbeat, watch birds dive into the sea to catch fish. And my mind - slowly - quietens, and I feel - still painful, and raw, but there is a hint of relief in the pain; a sense of a burden lessened._

 

 

"Of course, Jim... whatever you need." I lean back, against the pillows, tightening my arms around you. "I guess it will be getting close to dinner time... We should think about food, soon..."

 

 

_Yes... food... I guess food is good._

_I feel meek as I let you guide me back to the house, set me on a kitchen chair as you start looking for stuff to cook. I drink coke - no rum, but I need the sugar - and watch you move absent-mindedly. You keep looking at me, concerned, and I smile weakly back at you - "I'm alright Tiger. Just - tired. Empty. But - alright."_

 

 

I throw together my own version of a Mexican dish - sausages, rice, sautéed veg, topped with tomatoes, some cheese I've never heard of, and cilantro. I peek at you as I go. I know you don't want a mother hen, but how do I not look at you?

"All right," I say, leaning against the counter, as the food bubbles away in a large pan. "I saw a DVD collection inside... lots of films to choose from. Do you want to have a cosy evening on the sofa?"

 

 

_I shrug. I don't know what I want. I really don't. That's - unusual. Usually I want at least six impossible things before breakfast._

_Maybe more alcohol will help. People seem to like it. I pour some rum into my coke._

_I look at you, my face - I don't know. Questioning? Asking? For - guidance? I don't know Tiger. I... don't know anything at the moment._

 

 

I watch your face as you think. It would be so easy for me to panic right now... I usually know what you need. How did I get that wrong? Who am I to you if I'm not taking care of your needs? Who am I at all? Jesus Christ... throw in an existential crisis, that'll help... arsehole. You seem to want something from me, but... what??

I take your hands. "Or - we don't have to decide anything. We'll eat. We'll sit. We'll drink. We'll see where that takes us. Yeah?" I lift your hands, and kiss them reverently.

_“Thanks, Tiger... I’m sorry. I’m a bit... you know when you’ve had a massive workout or a big fight and you just lie on the couch saying you can’t move? I’m like that - except it’s my brain and emotions. It doesn’t feel bad - I don’t feel bad. Just - exhausted, and like I can’t think or feel any more today._

_I’m aware it’s disconcerting for you - but don’t worry, I’ll be back to my normal demanding self soon._

_That smells great by the way. “_

 

 

"Oh, I'm glad it smells great - because I have no idea what I'm doing. But it's just minutes away from being whatever it is..." I wink at you, and then I remember, as I start setting the table - _whatever we are_ … what you declared us to be in our marriage vows. But that already seems forever ago. I've been Yours, and you've been Mine, for … 2 days? 3? My beloved husband who has been through so much... I can't fix this for you. Can I. I can only be here as you deal with the fallout... and I have to be all right with that...

I'm not. I'm _fucking_ not. But some part of me must feel otherwise, because a heavy weight lifts from my shoulders, as I carry the steaming rice dish over the table. "C'mon, babe... Come try my mystery Mexican food, and lie to me about how delicious it is." I sit at the table, and pour us wine.

_‘Whatever it is...’_ _I look at you, and see remembering cross your face, a smile, then sadness, then anger. Poor Tiger. And it's going to be your turn next... but not now. Not tonight._

_We eat, and your mystery dish tastes pleasant enough - salty, fatty, and spicy, Sebastian Moran’s – Moriarty’s, sorry - signature tastes, which are perfect right now, on my poor stomach that has been hauled through emotional turmoil after a night of alcohol. Somehow the food and the rum calm me down more - ground me. We clear the dishes together in silence, occasionally pecking a cheek or touching an arm, and go to the living room with the huge flat screen. You look through the DVDs, hold up The Princess Bride - you know it's one of my feelgood films. I love you Sebastian..._

_You start it up, settle on the couch, pull me as close as possible, our glasses of rosé within reach. Seeing the familiar start, being held very tightly in your arms, my full stomach, the dulling effect of the alcohol - I'm starting to relax._

 

 

OK... this is good. Partway through the film, and we're a heap of tangled limbs, reciting lines from the film. I can't stop myself from kissing you - your forehead, your cheek, your hand, your shoulder. I wonder if I'll be able to kiss any more parts of you tonight, or if I should just let you rest...

 

 

_The familiar lines of the film help my head relax more - they fill my brain, allowing it to rest without panicking at emptiness._

_Halfway through, though, your kisses and hands on me start to distract me from the plot - your beautiful, strong hands... your lovely mouth..._

_I wonder..._

_I kiss you, deeply and longingly, and it works, it soothes... I caress your strong arms, which hold me safe, always..._

_I realize with a shock that I've done the thing I've always run from, and I seem to have survived. I'm still alive - I'm not crazier than I was - I still have you. I still have you. I will always have you._

 

 

Well, _you're_ kissing _me_ now... so I guess I don't need to think about what you might want or might not want. It feels good to let go, and just - feel your lips on mine, feel your body against mine. I lie back against the sofa kissing you back, receiving your caresses, and wait to see what happens...

 

 

_Neither of us is paying much attention to the film any more, as the kisses get deeper and more intense. I feel a desire rising inside me that's unlike me - but doesn't really surprise me. I'm tired, I'm vulnerable, I'm empty - and I want to get deeper into that feeling._

_"Tiger..." I whisper against your ear, lying on top of you. "Would you - if you can -" Damn, I'm shy now. It used to be just a case of ordering you - but this is different._

 

 

I shiver as you whisper in my ear. But you don't tell me what to do, or even what you want... hmm. I turn my head slightly, nuzzle your cheek. "What do you want, baby? Tell me..." I whisper back.

 

 

_I whisper into the side of your neck, too self-conscious to look you in the eye._

_"I'd like to - my mind is getting so quiet; I am enjoying it. I'd really like to - release all control. Have you take over. Have you - hurt me. Take me, forcefully. You've - done it before, but - now it's different. You don't - don't do it if you don't enjoy it, please. But - I'd really like to let go."_

_There. I've said it. I've become - even more vulnerable._

 

 

My mind is racing. Is this a good idea, after....? But maybe it's what you need?

"I _do_ enjoy it. And I _do_ want to do it with you. But Jim..." I struggle, feeling helpless. "Is there any chance you could feel... triggered? You just went through something huge, and... you still seem pretty raw. I want to give you what you need, but... I don't want to make it worse...! Do you feel ready for something like that??"

I frown. I can't see your face. Fuck...

_"I'm not a shrinking violet, Seb," I say, irritated. Seems like my old self is coming back..._

_"You're not - them. I trust you. I feel safe with you. And - I want to lose myself in that trust and safety. It's - damn Seb, you're submissive, you should understand - or maybe it works differently for me because I'm *_ _not*_ _submissive? But anyway - somehow feeling your strength, feeling you hurting me, taking me - it makes me feel safe, paradoxically. Because - because it's taking away the need for me to think, to be in control all the time, and that helps at a time when I feel I *_ _can't*_ _be in control. Giving control over to someone who is strong, capable, whom I trust, who will hurt me, because I need that to empty my mind, but not damage me - that makes me feel held, safe, good. Just - yeah, the one thing - don't be angry. That might frighten me, because it seems to imply that you're *_ _not*_ _in control._

_Uhm. Does that make sense?"_

 

 

"Of course it makes sense. I just had to be sure..."

I think for a moment, and sit up, squaring my shoulders. "All right. But - on one condition. If anything is freaking you out, not in a good way, you fucking tell me. And I'll either do something else or we stop. I'm not going to take you on some kind of fucked up runaway train that leaves you a total mess after. Got it?" I grip your shoulder, stare at you hard. "This isn't anger. I just need your fucking word."

 

 

 _"Of course, Seb - have you ever known me *_ _not*_ _to speak up when I'm uncomfortable?" I grin. "I promise, my love." I hug you - "I know this must be hard on you now, now you just want to *_ _protect*_ _me with all your being - but this is a form of protection, in a way. Thank you, Tiger. I love you."_

_I kiss you._

 

 

I kiss you back fiercely. "I love you, too. I have one more question for you, and then it's all out of your hands. Do you care if we're outside or in?"

 

 

_"Not in the slightest," I reply. The sun is down, I won't burn, and it’s kind of nice to be able to fuck outside without having people call the police._

 

 

I look at you, considering. "Wait here."

I go upstairs to the bedroom. I look through your luggage. I find what I'm looking for. I look around the bedroom, and decide we need to be with the elements for this, as well. When I return to the living room, you're waiting for me. I tilt my head towards the patio door. "We're going outside." You get up, and I follow you- walking slowly, not making a sound.

 

 

 _That's it. It's Commander Moran, and he's my favourite. The only person I would *_ _ever*_ _consider taking orders from._

_You tell me to 'wait here' and already my brain feels calmer - I don't need to decide what to do. It's been decided for me. I wait here. The soothing effect is instantaneous and remarkable - I'd be happy to wait here forever._

_But you're back, telling me to go outside - so I do. Happy. Peacefully. Is this what it's like for you? Or is this just me? Regardless - I don't normally like not being in control, but when I do want it - it's absolute bliss. And *_ _so*_ _much better when I'm not giving over control to someone who was *_ _ordered*_ _to take it._

 

 

You make it partway across the patio, before I'm moving, pushing you hard against one of the posts holding up the awning. I press you against the post with my body, my face sliding against yours. "Is this what you had in mind, Jim?" I whisper, but it's not tender as it was before. "It's been a while... let's see how long it takes to come back to me..." I bite down on your ear, and grind against your pelvis with mine.

_Your strong body pressing against mine - "Yes," I whisper, this is *_ _exactly*_ _what I had in mind. Let me feel your strength, Tiger –_

_I moan as you bite my ear, and feel you rubbing against me - your cock already stiffening, mine definitely getting hard._

_I’ve never experienced this, I realize – I have had people take control, but never someone I trusted, so I never could just let go – had to constantly remain alert, careful of what they were doing to me. And I’ve *_ _ordered*_ _you to take control – but that kind of defeats the point. It’s a mostly physical sensation then. This – this is different and I can’t wait to see what it feels like._

 

 

"Yes?" I whisper. "Are you sure about that?"

I spin you around, and knock you back against the post. My hand shoots forward, takes you by the throat, presses you back. I move my face closer to yours. "You were always so controlling about when I could do this, how I could do this... have you ever wondered who I really am? Who I was before you met me?" I move my head up, taking a long, predatory sniff as I do.

"I think you have wondered..." I move my face against yours. "And now... you're ready to know, are you?"

_Your hand on my throat has my body's defences respond for a fraction of a second, but I overrule them, and then - it empties my brain. My body relaxes, lets go into your hold. My Tiger. My strong, powerful man._

_"Yes," I breathe. "Yes, I have wondered... and yes, Tiger, I am ready to know."_

 

 

I smile at you, leaning in. I can feel my eyes lighting up. "You're not going to fight me, sweetheart? Every time I ever took control, I had to be so careful, so on guard against you... you can be so _vicious_ , my beautiful sadist..." I caress your face, watching you as I grind against you.

 

 

_I look into your face, feeling heat on mine - you're right. In the past if I ordered you to take over and you did something I didn't like - I'd snap out of it and likely punish you for not giving me exactly what I had in mind. God I was a prick._

_"I'm not going to fight you. I have given myself over to you - I trust you. If I don't like something, I'll say. But I'm not going to fight."_

 

 

I take a moment to softly squeeze your cheek, beaming love at you. Then I grin. "Just curious about what I'm in for..." I press my face against yours. "I like it when you fight back, by the way." I whisper. "But we can save that for another day..." My face still touching yours, I run my hand through your hair. Then I pull your head back, exposing your throat. "If you're surrendering to me, then I have other ideas..."

 

 

 _Yes - fighting back has its charms - feeling your strength, feeling that even with my speed and vicious skills I don't stand a chance against you - you're stronger, faster, more skilled than *_ _anyone*_ _I've ever seen, and it's so good to feel that. To know that I couldn't beat you if I tried._

_But I'm not in the mood to fight. I'm very much in the mood to surrender. Those words in your voice - 'surrender to me'..._

_You pull my hair and I bare my throat to you willingly, a copy of that gesture you make, consciously or subconsciously. It's a strong signal - the throat is such a vulnerable spot, exposing it willingly a big sign of trust - and submission._

 

 

You don’t resist… and with that sweet surrender of your throat to me, I feel something rising in me that I have never forgotten - the ecstasy that comes upon me when the predator rears his head… oh god, I feel it moving hard and fast… ( _remember_ … this is _Jim_ , and we _love_ him…) With trembling muscles, I lean forward to press my lips against your neck. I make a low, rumbling noise on my throat, and I _feel_ you surrender further… SO delicious, baby… I press my teeth into your soft skin, I bite down until I hear you moan, and then I pull back with a sharp intake of breath. I look at you, almost in surprise, and then place one hand against your cheek, lean in close. “My love…” I breathe, “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time…” Growling, I pull your head to the side and sink my teeth into your throat.

_My Tiger... I *_ _love*_ _seeing you unleashed, but you've never been so far off the leash as you are now. And you growl, and your teeth come out, and my knees go weak - I moan, and suddenly you draw back, looking at me surprised, as if you'd forgotten I was there. And your eyes - your eyes. I've seen your eyes in hunger - of course - but never so *_ _predatory*_ _. This must be new for you too - or at least something that you haven't encountered in a long time. You got to live out your predatory side on others - but you didn't *_ _fuck*_ _them. And you sometimes got to do it with me - but you always had to hold back; be wary of me. I'm intrigued - very intrigued what I am in for - and then you bite my neck *_ _hard*_ _, and growling, and I release a bit further, moaning softly, yielding my neck to my Tiger._

 

 

The taste of iron and your keening… pull me back to look at your blood slowly filling the deep grooves of my teeth marks. I lick hard against the small wound, and then suck gently. My eyelids flutter and I inhale deeply. “Oh, baby…” I groan. “I just want to devour you… but once I start… how do I stop?”

I turn your head towards me to check how you’re doing. You seem fascinated and euphoric. Satisfied, I again press my lips against your throat. “You always did enjoy taking my blood, sweetheart…” I whisper. “Now it’s time to give back…” I return to the blood beading against your skin, and slowly move my tongue over your throat.

 

 

 _Blood - *_ _my*_ _blood. I smell the metallic scent that should alarm me, but doesn't - a very good sign. I'm really letting myself go, trusting you - if my Tiger wants to draw my blood, I'll let him. Drink my blood, Tiger, take my life fluids into you; my life is yours anyway..._

_Whoa. Did I actually think that? And mean it? Wow - yes. That's - wow._

_Your mouth on my neck, your low whisper demanding my blood, your tongue on my throat makes me shiver. I picture you biting through my throat, taking that life that is yours, and right now? I'd let you... But I know you would never, never... Because you love me, protect me, carry me... and I go down one step further on this stairwell leading into a dark but beckoning realm..._

 

 

My tongue lapping at your wound, my lips softly pressing down on your neck… I'm floating with euphoria, as I’m drawing your life force, your essence... I can see why you took my blood so often, my thirsty little vampire…

I draw back regretfully, to examine your neck. I spread my fingers under the wound, and my other hand holds your jaw firmly - it’s possessive as hell, and I feel the predator rise again.

“Are you all for _me_ , my delicious sadist? Can I take my pleasure with you any way I like?” I don’t wait for an answer - I twist your head towards me, and kiss you deeply. I moan into your mouth- “Oh _fuck_ , baby - you’re so bloody hot, I want you right now…” I say, squeezing your jaw and neck. “But it’s too soon… it’s far too soon, when I just got my hands on you now… you’re not ready for this to be over yet are you, my sweet?” I stare at you, intoxicated by the look in your eyes… bewitched and entranced by you…

 

 

 _You're holding my jaw firm, I can't move - wouldn't want to move, but it's good to know that I *can't*_ _._

 _‘Take my pleasure with you_ _...’ Yes, Tiger, fuck yes, use me, take me any way you want, use my body... it's yours._

 _No, I don't want this to be over... this is all so *_ _new*_ _, and I'm fascinated despite my earlier exhaustion; fascinated by my responses, but most of all fascinated by *you*_ _\- you're *magnificent*_ _. I'm seeing you in a whole new light - a light that I'd never allowed to shine on you, and god, was I missing out._

 

 

Oh, baby - you’re _enjoying_ this… _Jim_ … I have to restrain myself from just lunging and tearing your clothes off.

My hand moves down your chest in a slow lightning bolt pattern. Oh, your _skin_ … I’ve never had a playground like you… where do I begin? I don’t need to mark you as you do to me… I love your perfect skin... but something… _something_ …

My hand moves slowly down to your waistband, pulls the fabric, unbuttons your shorts… “We don’t need these, do we?” I pull down, and they fall to the ground at your feet. I give you a glowing smile, holding out my hand to you like some kind of depraved Prince Charming from Hell, and you step towards me, in utter trust…

 

 

_You're looking me over like I'm a delicious buffet and you don't know where to start... what to savour first... and I find myself immensely pleased that I can delight you so, that you feel my body can be your feast. You're tracing your fingers down my chest, but not scratching, no claws yet... though I would have welcomed them..._

_You're dropping my shorts onto the patio and I'm standing naked before you, and you smile like I'm the most delectable thing you've ever seen and you're ready to devour me, and then you hold out your hand to me, and I enter the Tiger's den, oh so very willingly..._

I move my hands down your back, slowly, so slowly... and then I cup your arse in my hands, closing my eyes, squeezing...

"Oh fuck..." I breathe. "You really are perfection, aren't you? And all, all of you, _mine_..." I yank you towards me, so we're pressed together. Impatiently, I pull off my shorts, and then it's all skin to skin, your cock against mine, and _yes_ , you are into this...

I'm fondling your arse, smiling down at you. Then I swoop down to kiss you, and keep kissing you as I slowly walk you backwards to the post. When your back is pressed against it, I step back to look at you, and lick my lips. "Yes... delicious, and all mine..."

 

 

_Your shorts come off and then we're both lost in the bliss of feeling each other; after having been cruelly separated by layers of cloth, your cock enthusiastically greeting mine, my hands feeling your delicious arse... I look up at you, you smile, sweetly, lovingly, and then - predatorially again. Your mouth claims mine, I'm pushed back against the post, caught between it and your firm body._

_"Yours, my love..." I confirm, looking at your hungry eyes, you *_ _licking your lips*_ _\- this must be how a mouse feels before it's being devoured by a cat. Well - supposing the mouse is extremely keen to be devoured. A suicidal mouse. Shut up Moriarty - stop trying to think so desperately and just... let go into the feeling._

 

 

I take another step back, tilting my head and admiring you. "So beautiful... but there's another way I'd like to see you right now..." I scoop up my shorts from the patio, and rifle through the pockets.

"You always gave me such a hard time about wearing army-issue trousers... but you must admit the pockets are very handy... now, what are we going to find in this one? Ohhh... yes..." I hide my hand behind my back and step towards you. "Turn around, baby..." I growl, and wait.

_I'm *_ _not*_ _thinking about what you have in your pocket, I'm *_ _not*_ _deducing it, I want to come to this as a blank canvas._

_It's usually difficult to switch off - but with my mind so blank, it comes easily. I just look at you, your face, so incredibly beautiful when it's like this - dangerous, self-assured, authoritative. God, you're breathtaking. I find this literally true - I seem to have stopped breathing._

_I start again, and obey you - turning around to face the post, losing eye contact, not knowing what you are going to do next - but accepting whatever it's going to be._

 

 

My eyes look heavenward, and I mouth _holy fuck_ at the sky. You're naked and pressed against a post, following my orders... Jesus fucking Christ... did I lose time and wake up Christmas morning? If so, you're my gift, and I'm taking my sweet fucking time unwrapping you...

I step towards you silently and kiss the top of your spine, and grin when you jump slightly and shiver... Oh, I _know_ , sweetheart… I take your hands and raise them up slowly, as if we're dancing... because aren't we? A long, winding tango of dominance and submission... I press your hands against the post. There are metal brackets in place to hold up a decorative patio lantern, which I remove, and place on the ground. Then I take the rope I brought from upstairs, loop it around your wrists, and secure your hands to the post. I pull on the rope, and, satisfied, I move my hands down your arms.

_Nothing, nothing, nothing for such long moments... how do you bear this, Sebastian? The anticipation - the - slight fear - the not knowing... What's keeping you? Why are you holding me in suspense? What's - oh! You're touching me and I flinch - but it's a kiss, a kiss that sends a shiver all down my spine._

_My hands are raised up, slowly, gracefully, tied to a hook. Ah, yes... another step is descended. My hands are literally tied - I can't do anything. Such a liberating feeling... I close my eyes, breathe out. A defenceless body, yours to do with as you please... *_ _So*_ _good..._

I press my face into your hair, your neck, breathing in your scent. My hands move down your back, fingers splayed, digging into your skin. “You have suuch beautiful skin, baby... I don’t want to mark it up... much...” I smile against your neck. “But let’s just see what we can do, to make you feeel as much as possible...”

I lift a small leather cat o’ nine tails, sweet and buttery soft, and twirl it my hand until the sound vibrates through the air. The next sounds are the leather straps hitting your back with a resounding _smack_ , and me sighing with pleasure.

 

 

_Your body pressing against mine is delicious, you envelop me, your head on my head, your arms around me; I'm captured between you and the post, my hands tied - held. Safe._

_Your hands down my back make me tingle, gooseflesh on my arms. You speak of marks, and I want them, Tiger, mark me with your stripes as I have so often marked you with mine... But you say you like my beautiful skin and don't want to damage it too much, which is fine - I'm yours, I will be as you want me to._

_Leather swishes through the air - the cat - not the most horrifying instrument I've brought, but effective in the right hands - and your hands are *strong*._

_And then *finally*_ _\- sensation - pain - not too horrific, but I feel it, and I absorb it - I need sensation, Tiger, my body needs to feel your strength..._

 _A small part of my brain is still detached, analytic - observing my responses with interest. And yours - is that a *sigh of pleasure*_ _we hear? My my, Tiger, such unexplored hidden depths. I had no idea you craved this - did you?_

_And then the second lash falls and my mind is quiet again as I descend yet another step into the velvety welcoming unknown..._

I twirl the cat around again, enjoying the sound and its mesmerizing effect... I'm alternating rapid, light flicks of the tails against your skin, feathery-soft, and then a sudden stinging lash... you don't know when the lash is coming. I can tell you're trying to anticipate the next one, and I won't satisfy you, it's throwing you off; I can see it in the way you breathe in sharply, fall against the post when it comes...

"This is just a little taste, my sweetheart - the restraints... whipping... it's delicious to see you react, it's fucking hot..." _lash_ "... " but in the end, it's just going to be me and you..." _lash_ "Me on you..." The lashes are coming harder and stronger. "Me in you..." I say breathily. _Lash_ "You like that, don't you, baby... My cock in you... Is that what you want?" _lash lash_

 

 

 _Sensation building up... you're being cruel by not letting me anticipate, keeping me on my toes - every time I brace myself you're *not*_ _lashing, and then when I relax you do - I'm afraid I taught you that trick... It's making it hard to relax into the pain, though, and is keeping me more alert than I'd like - but that ensures the pain is more acute, which is good, paradoxically. I'm glad I'm not a masochist - it must be so confusing._

_But then your words pour down on me, and they're going straight to my pelvis, making my cock twitch - you're enjoying this..._

_And the lashes rain down properly now, making me feel small jolts of pain one after another, building up, letting me go down further toward the inviting basement of obliviousness. I groan as I hug the post, leaning against it, helpless against the lashes, welcoming them..._

_"Yes..." I moan, "Yes, Tiger... have me any way you want... I'm yours..."_

I'm lashing your arse now, _fuck_ , I didn't think I'd ever ever be doing this... I don't know if I'll be able to do this again, I must make the most of it... "Oh, I _will_... any way I want... I've never seen your skin like this, baby..." I say, breathing harder. I stop abruptly and run my hands down along your back and arse, bright with pink lash marks. "You look _good_ like this, my beautiful love... " I say, admiring my handiwork. "Maybe a little more?" The cat tails rain down against your thighs, and I close my eyes briefly to listen to your panting and moaning...

 

 

_That whip feels even better on my arse than on my back - the pain different, more diffuse, and closer to my cock - has to travel less far to send its shivers across, making me hard... Fuck, Tiger, you're good at this. My analytical side, still not fully shut up, remarks how beautifully you cover me in stripes without making them cross over, excellent aiming (well duh, he's a sniper). Your hands stroking your marks send electric currents through me, and then you lash my thighs and that's a different sensation again, the skin thinner, the muscles close, it makes me moan - but of pain or of delight, I couldn't tell you..._

 

 

I move back up to your arse - you seem most turned on by this, and truth be told, it's _really doing it for me_... I fucking love your arse, so to be lashing it hard, turning it rosy with my marks is such a heady thing... I stop lashing abruptly again, move forward to press my lips against your neck.

"Beautiful love...." I say softly... "It's so hard to stay in control around you, I just want to have my way with you when I see that sweet arse of yours..." I sigh, grab the rope with one hand and twist you around so you're facing me - the ropes have just enough give to allow it.

"Oh..." I say looking down at you hungrily. "What do we have here?"

 

 

 _I'm *leaping*_ _down those stairs now, feeling the embrace of the darkness, the blissful emptiness, as my mind *finally*_ _shuts up and I just - exist. Am nothing more than a body, sensation, a tool for your pleasure, and I'm riding the fuck out of that high, god, I love this... I have been *_ _so*_ _missing out..._

 _The lashing stops and I feel you pressed against me; I can feel your excitement and wonder if you're going to fuck me like this, but you turn me around and I see your face - flushed with delight and excitement, still predatory, fully in control, *_ _enjoying*_ _yourself - damn ,Tiger.... I look up at you, panting, hungry but surrendered, open to whatever you want..._

_You look at my cock - that appetite hasn't changed, then..._

 

 

I look up at you. "Oh, I know you're thinking it... I have a one-track mind, I'm obsessed with cock. _Your_ cock specifically... the most beautiful cock I've _ever_ had... and you're right. But I'm not through with you yet... there's a little more I need to do, sweet thing..."

I lean in to kiss you, pushing you back against the post. My body pressed against yours, your back and arse are ground against the post... when you close your eyes and your breath catches in your throat, I laugh low in my throat. "I told you I'd pay you back, my beautiful sadist..." I press my mouth to yours, and kiss you hungrily.

 

 

_Is that what this is? Payback? No - it's not. You're not angry, it's not revenge - it's just something you say. You're pushing against me, kissing me so greedily, but it's love, and lust, that I taste, not wrath. I let myself hang in the ropes, let myself be handled by you, kissing back, noticing I'm pulling my shoulders back, trying to expose more of myself to you - so beautiful to see the signals I recognize in you in myself. You rub off on me more than I realized - or maybe it's a universal gesture of submission._

 

 

I break off the kiss, hold your face in my hands. I long to devour you, but there's something I need to do first. "Baby..." I say, panting. "I need you to do something for me... it will be hard, but I need you to do this." I lean in close, move my lips to your ear. "Don't. Come. Until. I. Say." I say in a low voice. And then I'm moving down to my knees, swiping down your torso and thighs with my nails. I look up at you, grinning - and then I grab your arse and pull your cock into my mouth.

 

_You're looking at me so hungrily, and then you speak, and I hear my own words thrown back at me, and I would laugh; but I'm caught in the tone of your voice, so authoritative, and I find myself mouthing the words 'Yes, Sir', again an echo, and not something I have ever said to anyone, and I didn't say it to you, I just formed the words, seeing how they felt on my lips..._

_You look up grinning - it's disconcerting, this mirror universe. I recall my own grin at you after those words... My own mouth on your cock, like yours now closes around mine. And your mouth is *magnificent*, Sebastian... You bloody well know it is..._

_The sensation mingling with the burning of the stripes on my back rubbing against the pole, your hands digging into my lashed arse..._

_I lean my head back and moan into the dark Mexican sky._

 

 

I'm rubbing my hand over the claw marks on one of your thighs, and I see a drop of blood trickling down. Lightning fast, I move my hand to your cock, and my mouth to your thigh. I scrape my teeth against it, and blood trickles out into my mouth. I suck on it hungrily, as my hand strokes your cock, chewing when I want more of your ruby-coloured essence.

"Fuck, baby ," I pant. "You may be in trouble... " I lick hard against the wound, and stroke you faster.

 

 

_Of course the predator gets roused at the sight of blood - enough to lure you away from my cock, normally the centre of your universe, and onto the marks your claws left. The combination of your teeth teasing more blood out with your hand on my cock makes me groan - you bloodthirsty madman, I love you..._

 

 

The combination of your blood, your cock in my hand and your groaning... is a dizzying cocktail of sensation. Soon I'm moaning as I chew and playfully gouge your thigh... I really want to return to your cock, but.... mmm... _Jim_... you're intoxicating, my love, my life...

I lick your wound hard one last time, and then wrap my lips around your cock. Oh, _fuck_... as much as I want to keep making you bleed, I won't be able to resist fucking you for long... I look up at you, and see you watching me...

 

 

_Such an exquisite mingling of sensations, having my thigh masticated by a tiger, and my cock stroked by same... I'm deep, deep in that basement of surrender, and every painful spasm that jumps through my body is transformed into a twinge of pleasure._

_Then you're back on my cock and damn, that *_ _is*_ _good, but I'm in a state of stasis that feels like I could remain there forever - I *_ _could*_ _come if I wanted to, but it's not costing me any effort to just remain like this, just being handled by you, under your command *_ _not*_ _to come, and not even remotely considering disobeying it._

 

 

Your eyes on me _undo_ me... I’ve been growling orders at you, tying you to a post, whipping you, fucking drinking your _blood_... this is actually happening. It is not a _fucking_ dream... I want to do more, but I fucking want you now.

I rise and press my forehead to yours, breathing hard. “Beautiful love... I would love to play with you some more... I wish I had your discipline... but I _don’t_.” I twist you around again, press you to the post with my body... slide my finger into your arse, and slowly move it in a circle... and bite down on your shoulder hard.

 

 

_Oh yes. Oh - YES. I want you to fucking fuck me to oblivion, Sebastian, fuck me until I can't stand, can't speak, can't *think*..._

_I press myself against your finger, groan at your teeth in my shoulder, lean my head back._

_"God yes... please fuck me Sebastian... fuck me *_ _hard*_ _\- take me..."_

 

"Fuck yes I will," I mutter against your now-bleeding shoulder. I suck hard, while sliding a second finger into you. Your muscles clench down around my fingers, and I continue to circle firmly, as I lick your blood.

 

 

_I moan hard, press against you - I want to feel you inside me, want to feel you possessing me, claiming your pleasure from my body, as it's bound against this post, as it's marked with your tiger stripes, your claw marks..._

_I smell my blood again, feel your tongue and teeth and lips, your fingers, just *_ _you*_ _and traces of you all over my body._

_"God, Tiger..." I moan._

 

 

Fuck... My poor baby, I'm such a beast... We need lube... I suck hard from your shoulder, then tear myself away to pull a tube from my army shorts discarded on the patio floor. When I return to you, I my fingers are already slicked, and ready... I slide them in again and again... I pour lube on my cock, slide it between your arse cheeks, rubbing hard against you, enjoying hearing you moan.

"No..." I breathe. "I have a better idea..." I spin you around to face me again. I hoist you up in my arms, and lean you against the post, my cock pressing against your entrance... our eyes meet.

 

 

 _When you move away I panic - the touch I'd been cherishing cruelly ripped away - but you're back soon, sliding slick finger inside - my lovely Tiger, always so concerned about my wellbeing... And then finally your cock, and I push back, eager to receive you, and then *_ _that*_ _is pulled away as well and I think I *_ _whine*_ _with the loss, but you're pulling me up and around and balancing me in your strong arms, positioning me above you, our faces so close... and as you slide me onto you, so carefully, so slowly, I resist the urge to close my eyes to look into yours. And I see - hunger, greed, yes, but such love, such care, that it brings tears to my eyes. "I love you..." I whisper._

 

 

Your face… your _voice_... oh, baby... “Fuck, I love you... Jim...” I moan, and then I’m pushing into you firmly. Pressing you against the post, taking care not to pull down on your arms to much.... I take the brunt of your weight, and it’s so fucking hot... I’m working my way into you, and get close enough to kiss you... and then I’m _in_ you... holding you up, moving inside you and groaning.

 

 

_It's so good to feel your strength, still - you're holding me up like I weigh nothing, moving me down onto you, kissing me, and I do feel tears running down my cheeks now, and I see you look alarmed, so I explain "No, it's good, it's good, I'm releasing, it's good..." and I *am*, I'm feeling even more tension drain away as I am held in your arms, pinioned on your cock, with my own arms tied behind me - held, used, loved..._

 

 

When I see tears, I _panic_... but you assure me it's a good thing and I believe you. Thank fucking Christ... You've already been through _so much_... and for this to be helping you is so good, but I feel almost guilty at how much I've enjoyed it... I had no idea a healing experience would feel _like this_... you strung up against a post, me holding you up, fucking you so hard....

"Jim... you feel so good," I moan, and then I’m going faster, my hips firing like pistons, I'm driving myself into you. “Oh fuck, oh you’re so fucking hot...” I murmur, “So fucking hot... baby... come for me...” I take one hand, stroke you firmly.

“Come for me, my dark angel...” I moan and stroke and thrust into you so hard...

 

 

_I could no more disobey this command than any of the other ones... You're telling me to come as you fill my body, heart, mind, and soul, and of course I will come for you, anything for you, Sebastian, my love, my life... *Anything*..._

_Your hand knows what it's doing, your cock is pressing into me at just the right angle, but it's your voice that pulls me over the edge - your dark voice, the voice I get to hear so little, your dangerous voice, never used with me except now..._

_And I come for you, I feel my relief pouring into your hand, as my body arches and shudders, with tears still spilling down my face, and it feels like yet another release, the latest one in a long series, and I sob out loud, whilst whispering that that's alright, it's good, so you don't stop, don't feel you're doing anything wrong, because you are perfect, you are amazing, and I can't stop sobbing as the tension drains from my body, and I hang limply in your arms._

 

  
  
I'm holding you now with one arm, pressing you hard against the post, and I'm in no danger of dropping you, but it's still a challenge to keep you upright, _and_ stroke you, _and_ thrust into you, oh fuck, Jim... come _now_... please... _you do_... and it's magnificent... stunning... heart-achingly beautiful...

I want to weep and cover you with kisses, but I'm still holding you up, so I just watch dazedly as you cry, and reassure me, and sob... and then I'm coming, hard and fast, pouring myself into you... and when my body stops shaking against you, I can finally pull out of you, and carefully put you down... muscles trembling, I stretch to loosen the ropes from your wrists, and then scoop you up and carry you to one of the lounge chairs. So gently, I lay you down on your side. I stretch out next to you, and finally, finally I can break down into tears, and cover you with kisses.

 

 

_God, we're some hardened criminals, aren't we... But today has been harrowing, and we've both been through the wringer, and it's good for you to release too..._

_I feel completely drained, physically, mentally, emotionally... in a good way. I feel - lighter, less tense; like a burden I wasn't aware of carrying has been lifted._

_I wrap my arms around you, you're so careful not to touch my back - "It's fine, my love, it's fine - it doesn't hurt - Seb, my wonderful Seb, my love, thank you, you're amazing... why are you crying my love?" I babble as I try to kiss your tears while you are kissing mine._

 

 

"I don't - _know_..." I sob, pressing my face to yours, my shoulders shaking... "I fucking love you and it's so big, and then it just gets fucking bigger-" I moan. "Are you sure you're OK? I didn't hurt you too much??" I demand, holding your face in my hands.

 

 

 _"Honey - Seb - how can you ask - no, you didn't hurt me too much. I *_ _needed*_ _pain, I needed it to be able to let go, and I did, and it was fantastic, you're fantastic, my love... Come on, you've done way worse than this-"_

 

I shake my head. "Not when you were in such a state... I wasn't too mean? Because I have to tell you... it was really fucking hard to hold back." I start laughing through my tears. "I could have gone harder, meaner, darker... I just - didn't know how much you could take today..." I press my lips to yours. "I love you," I whisper fiercely, and pull you closer to me.

 

 

_"Oh you shouldn't have held back - I would have welcomed it - I - I don't often need this, but when I do, it's... I don't know, the more the better? It's like - I need to empty my mind, and the more - dominant you are, the more pain you give me, the better that works. I was wondering - is it the same for you? Or does it feel different?"_

 

 

I stroke your shoulder as I consider. "I guess so... I haven't thought about it for a while. Never enough to articulate it..." I smile up at the night sky. "I never expected to be talking about it with you..."

 

 

_I sigh at that, a familiar stab of guilt at remembering my past self, but less sharp than before. I hold you close, tears still trickling out of my eyes - they don't seem to want to stop - and bury my head in your shoulder. "I'm sorry Seb... I guess we're doing a lot of things we'd never have expected. I hope - I hope it's all good for you. I - think it is for me. It's - hard, fucking hell. But I think I'm - becoming... a better man I wouldn't say... a better partner, certainly. And - a more complete person."_

 

 

I bring my lips to your head, kiss and stroke your hair. "It's so fucking good, and so fucking hard. And _you_ are amazing, and beautiful, and so bloody hot, and - about a million other things I'll tell you while we're here... and then for the rest of your life." I kiss your hair again. "I need to take care of your back, baby... I'll be right back. Unless you're ready to go in?"

 

 

_"Yes, I'm... really, really tired. I feel exhausted. But in a good way. Like I said, like when you've been working out or something. I'd like to just go to sleep with you..."_

 

 

"There's nothing I'd love more than to sleep with you... for about a century." I groan as I try to move my limbs. "Oh, Jesus... this is gonna hurt when we go for a 5K run in the morning..." I sit up and grin at you. "Don't tell my Boss, but I may have been overconfident when I did the whole fucking you while holding you up with one arm manoeuvre.." I manage to stand, and hold out my hand to you. "Come with me, my beautiful love..."

 

 

_I let myself be guided by you to the bedroom, laid on the bed on my stomach as you rub soothing cream in my back, and refuse when I offer to do the same for you, fuck's sake Seb, your weals are worse, but I don't protest too much because I don't think I can move an inch. You go to the beach to retrieve our bedding from the nest, come back with lovely cool pillows and a duvet that smells of the sea, pile them around me, and slide into my waiting arms._

_This is what I needed. Sadder than when the day began, but much less burdened, with a mind washed clean from the inside, empty, almost calm. I relax into your embrace, have a moment or two to reflex on the tranquillity in my head - then sleep._


	4. Total Fucking Nightmare

I’m sitting on the beach, facing the sea as the sun slowly rises, and the sky lights up with glowing streaks of pink.

“It’s a new day,” you say, from behind me. I turn to look back at you, and hold out my hand. You take my hand, and sit next to me.

“Brave new world,” I comment.

“That has such people in it...” you reply.

“People?” I repeat.

You point, and I follow your finger. Looking out at the sea, I see a huge dark cloud floating over the waves. “What?” I ask.

The cloud is roiling across the surface of the water, picking up speed.

I look at you nervously. “Maybe we should go inside?”

You watch in fascination. “What _is_ that??”

“Jim? Wouldn’t we be safer inside?” I ask, shaking your sleeve.

The sleeve becomes a long lacy handkerchief – you pull it out of your sleeve like a magician, and hand it to me. “You’re going to need it, Sebbie!” you say, gleefully. “Emotions are the new sexy!”

I screw up my face at you, but you’re too busy staring out at the sea to notice. “Look! Here it comes!” you grin.

A dark figure rolls out of the waves, as if being spat out by the sea.

My eyes widen and I begin to back away.

“Sebbie… be a good host…” you chide.

“Fuck. No.” I whisper.

“After I went first??” you ask in shock.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Jim…” I weep, and run away from you across the sand.

I wake up, scrambling against the sheets, wildly panicking. Oh. My. Fucking. Christ. Will you need a day to recover? How about a year? I cover my face with my hands. _ShitShitShit… I don’t think I can do this…_

 

 

_I'm furious. I need to destroy, need to kill, or the fire inside my head will consume me..._

_Sebastian is babbling about something stupid and I punch him against the wall - the wall of our apartment - didn't I blow that up? Of course not, why would I? It's a good apartment._

_The rage is growing and it needs to get out, it must, I'm punching and punching and he's not fighting back, of course not, he wouldn't dare, is just accepting the punches, but I feel a rib crack, and another, and I really shouldn't damage him like this, but I can't stop, the rage just gets hotter and bigger and I *need* to let it out; I punch his jaw and blood splatters onto the wall, and it only fuels the anger, I punch and punch and punch and he's on the floor and I'm on top of him, and I'm witnessing myself doing this and screaming at myself to *stop!*, crying that *I love him!!!*, but I'm overcome with the fury and keep punching until his face is just a pulp, the teeth and bones broken, in shattered fragments in the bloody mess, my hand covered in blood..._

_... and then the rage is gone –_

_and I am left shocked at what I've done._

_Sebastian._

_I start crying, lifting up the fragments of bone, trying to put him back together, but I can't._

_I never can._

_I've ruined everything, the only good thing I've ever had, the only good man I've ever met, and I destroyed him..._

_I howl in anguish…_

 

 

I'm lying rigidly in bed, sheets twisted around me, unsure what to do... Should I tell you I need more time? Should I... _what_?? In the dream, I _took off_... the one thing you fear... and I _wouldn't_... but I'm so afraid of what I'll do in the moment, when faced with my past... can I even say I won't with absolute certainty??

 _Yes_.

I would never ever leave. It's not possible.

(I couldn't _leave_ him... but is it possible I would panic and run??) I moan softly at the thought - imagining your face as you watch me go. I just need to stay, _no matter what_ it costs me.. no matter how much I bleed...

Oh, Jim... you're so much stronger than me... everything you experienced, and you faced it?? Why can't I just... make myself face the past?

Because I can't do this, _ICan'tFuckingDoThis..._

A howl rises from the bed, and I jump. My head whips around in a panic... I roll over, and slide my arm around you.

"Jim? Baby? You're dreaming...Come back to me..." I say, full of love, and stroking your face with my hand.

 

 

 _His hand - still moving - his voice - *how!?*_ _Not dead!?!_

_I open my eyes and see your face - your face - intact - sweaty; bloodshot eyes - but - Sebastian –_

_I reach out a hand, touch your cheek, your intact cheekbones, your jaw, your skin, your beautiful skin in one piece –_

_And I break down crying again - for fuck's sake. When will I *ever*_ _stop this sentimental nonsense? But - the relief - the *guilt*..._

 

_I could have done that._

_I nearly did, a couple of times._

_I *did*_ _break your rib._

 

_I - don't deserve human contact. I can't handle it. Get too close to me and you *die*. That's what happens. To everyone. To mam. Georgie. Nearly you - only didn't happen because you're a tough bastard. But - it will. I can't - I'm contaminated. I'm poison._

_I cry in your arms like I'll never be able to stop._

 

 

You burst into tears. My hand freezes on your face. And then it's like the dam has burst, and you're sobbing like your heart is broken, you've lost everything, and there's nowhere left to turn...

"Baby..." I cry out. " _Baby_... everything's ok. You were dreaming... I'm here, I'm here... nothing's going to hurt you." I watch you in alarm, as you don't stop. I hug you close, clueless about what else to do.

"I'm here, Jim... I'm right here... I love you, baby... I love you..." I croon desperately, as I hold you to me, and tears fill my eyes.

 

 

_How can I explain this, Tiger? How can I tell you about the darkness inside me that consumes *everything?* It's been held at bay, we've had a few days of respite - but it will be back, Tiger, it will be back, and it will devour you..._

_"I'm so sorry, Tiger... I should never have involved you in this... Whatever *this*_ _is... How could I think that I could have a normal relationship? A normal life? *Me?!*_ _How could I be so delusional? I'll destroy you... I'll burn you... And I'll be devastated, but I can't *not*... destruction is all I know, all I'm capable of..."_

_I cry inconsolably. I can't see a way out. I am so sorry, I love you so much..._

 

 

"Jim, sweetheart..." I protest. "You're working through it, it's the most amazing thing I've ever seen... things are different now, can't you feel it?" I demand. "Besides, I'm not the same as I was, and _I_ can't go back... I won't _let_ you destroy me... I won't _let_ you burn me..." My voice is fierce, bordering on angry... oh, I still have things to work out, too...

"You're going to have to trust that I can take better care of myself now. I was in a bad place for... well... most of my life. But everything we've experienced left its mark on me, and - I won't stand by and be hurt by you. You're going to have to trust me.."

 

 

_You're..._

 

_Huh._

_You’re right._

_You're - you're stronger than I am. A better fighter. I *couldn't*_ _destroy you in a fit of rage - it would require planning. Even if I grabbed a handy gun in a temper - you've dealt with people who did that, and they're dead, and you're not. I may be deadly - but you're damn good at not letting death get to you._

_Oh thank you Sebastian. Thank you for pointing that out. Fuck. I feel - a little less desperate now. There appears to be a glimmer of hope, and it's you. As always._

_My crying subsides, I wipe my eyes on the sheets, look at you again - you look like you had a shit night as well._

_"Bad dream... I'm sorry, Tiger. Thanks - thanks for - making me see reason._

_So - what was yours?"_

 

 

Relief surges through me when my words seem to register and you stop crying. But then you're onto the next topic... I'm trying to not look haunted, and most likely failing. "Ghosts," I say bitterly. "I'm sure it'll be time to deal with that soon enough... can we talk about something else?"

 

 

_Ah yes, no talking with my Tiger before his first coffee and cigarette..._

_"Let's have breakfast," I suggest. "Some food and coffee will put things more into perspective. I certainly need some... I feel like I did five rounds with Mike Tyson yesterday.... "_

_I get up, go to the kitchen, wrestle with the coffee maker again. You're not straight behind me - probably having your first fag in bed. You do that after a nightmare. I wonder if they were your ghosts or mine..._

 

 

I'm pacing in the bedroom, an unlit cigarette hanging from my hand. Why are relationships so fucking hard? I love you, I can't live without you... so I'm being forced to deal with things I promised _myself_ never to look at... why is 'us' more important than 'me'?

I want to punch through the sliding door that opens up to the balcony. But of course that would be bloody knuckles again, and all the feelings that this would bring up in _you_.

Is it any wonder I played the field for so long, and never settled down? You changed all that, little fucker...

I finally stop to light my cigarette, and inhale. Memories stream through my mind of the better times in our four years together... the time we drank shots together, and you got shit-faced and giggly, and I finally saw your true face under the mask... the times you looked at me longingly, like there was nothing you wanted to do more than throw yourself in my arms...

I finally have that now. And it's downstairs. Making me coffee.

Fuck this ruminating bullshit... It's worth it, you're worth it, you're fucking mine... I storm downstairs with a lit cigarette in my mouth.

 

 

 _I'm still struggling with the coffee maker when I hear your footsteps bounding down the stairs. I look up to see what's got into you; but before I can open my mouth you *pounce*_ _me and hug me tight enough to knock the wind out of me._

_Well. That cigarette was effective._

_I hug you back as much as I can - you're pinning my arms to my sides and don't seem inclined to let go, and I still have a coffee filter in my hand._

_"I love you, Sebastian," I say - I'm not sure what made you rush into my arms suddenly, and that seems the safest bet._

 

 

I pull back, and hold your face in my hands. "I fucking love you too, babe," I say gruffly. "I'm going to be a handful, and an arsehole, and a total fucking nightmare. So if you want to know my past, you're in for it. I'll do it for you... But you are _in for it_... if you can handle that, then... I apologize in advance." I hug you again... then I blow a cloud of smoke in the air, and get started on making breakfast.

 

 

_Ah, we're doing that today, are we? No wonder you had nightmares... But - well done Seb for getting to a point where you are willing to talk._

_You *never*_ _talked about your past, and whenever I enquired I got *very*_ _touchy replies basically telling me to fuck off. It was the one area in which you would *not*_ _comply with my wishes. So I left it - I'd like to think because of respect for your privacy, but more likely it was because of the fear of bringing any kind of emotion into our relationship._

_We sit together eating breakfast in companionable silence - we don't really do small talk, and the big talk is a bit too big for now. We've always been fine with being quiet together - I liked that about you. So many people feel the need to fill silences, you never did. We could go days without talking if I was in a sulk, but at more pleasant times we'd just sit together - me on my laptop, you in a book, for hours and hours in comfortable quiet._

_I can see you're restless though. Poor Tiger - I felt the *urge*_ _to talk, I had to get it out or it'd have suffocated me - but for you - this is because *I*_ _want it. And I know it's needed for both of us - but you still don't seem too convinced._

_You clear up the dishes as I start to rebuild our nest. I fill up the cool box with your favourite drinks, make sure we have plenty of cigarettes, reattach the towels that you'd punched loose yesterday, move the umbrella, then head back into the house to get the pillows and duvet. You're squeezing a dish cloth to within an inch of its life, staring at the wall._

 

 

I look at you in a daze. "Huh?" I ask.

"I didn't say anything..." you respond, looking at me oddly.

"Oh... I - have a couple of things to do. I'll be with you in a while..." I say in a distant voice. Then I take the steps two at a time, and return to the bedroom.

I stretch out on the bed, hoping you don't follow me. Or I hope you follow me for the purposes of sex - some nice apology sex for making me do this... or even better, some spectacular I-changed-my-mind-you-don't need-to-do-this sex...

I suddenly realize I didn't even suggest sex this morning...! That's how turned around this thing has got me... Now if everything comes crashing down around our heads, we wouldn't even have had a goodbye fuck!!

Pain stabs my heart - goodbye fuck?? This won't mean goodbye - will it? I don't know - I don't know how you'll react to-

Nope. Not going to think of that until it's absolutely necessary... which is momentarily. Fuck... _FUCK_...

I roll over onto my front, cover my head with a pillow, and whimper.

 

 

 _My goodness. First we get nightmare Seb - not too unusual. Then grumpy Seb - also not that rare... but Seb who isn't angling for sex first thing in the morning? And *still*_ _not after coffee and a cigarette? That *is* unprecedented._

 _And now - a distracted Seb who runs upstairs like an upset teenager. God, I feel like such a monster for asking you to do this - is there no other way? No - there really isn't... Especially not now we've been dragging stuff so close to the surface, but even if we could rebury it... I just can't risk it. Can't risk not knowing you. The damage I could cause... The damage I've already caused... No, Sebastian, I am so, so sorry, but you *have*_ _to let me in._

_I give you ten minutes, but you're not coming down; so I go upstairs, where I find you have grabbed a pillow and are hiding underneath it like a bedridden ostrich._

_"Sebastian... Sebbie..." I touch your shoulder. "My love... what's wrong?"_

 

 

I gather the pillow around my head, and groan.

"Oh _God_ , Jim... you were so brave, I don't know how you did it..." I say in a muffled voice. "I was ready, I swear I thought I was ready... and I _wanted_ to do it, just so I could get it over with... but I needed to get something first, and then... it felt so quiet in here... quiet and safe... and I didn't want to leave..."

I pull the pillow only partly off my face, and look at you. "I'm sorry... you set everything up already, and I don't want to leave. It's too big out there... I don't want to go. The thought of facing the water...after- after-" I start breathing hard and fast, and then I'm screaming into my pillow, everything is black and red sparks, and violent buzzing energy through my body, and the scream I've buried for almost 30 years is going to tear right through my throat, and maybe the rest of me will disintegrate and then I won't have to face it, face myself and what I've done, face you and what this will do to us...

_"FuckFuckFUCK!!!"_

 

 

 _Oh fuck, Sebastian... I've never seen you like this, ever. Your scream tears through my insides, rips open my heart, my stomach, my throat... Was this what it was like for you to see me? God, how could you stand it... Well... you couldn't... But you held me through it. And I will do everything I can to hold you through this. I'm the *worst*_ _person I can think of to be taking care of anyone - but I will learn *very very quickly*_ _\- because I *will*_ _take care of you, my love._

_I sit next to you on the bed, let you rage into the pillow, my hand on your back, stroking your shoulders. You're incredibly tense, each and every one of your muscles is pulled taut with the stress._

 

 

Your touch brings the screaming to a low moan. "My fault... my fucking fault..." I whimper. "I told him-" my breathing starts to come faster again, and I sit upright.

"I'm not going out there," I snarl. "I'm not fucking going out there! If we do this, we stay in here! Got it?" I shout. And then I look at your face, registering shock and concern and love, and I start to cry.

"I'm sorry... I just can't face the water..." I slide down to the floor, and pull the duvet around me. "I need to do this here..." I murmur from the folds of the duvet.

 

 

_"That's alright Sebastian. It's alright. Anything you want. We'll stay in here. I'll close the curtains, close the door, so we're all safe and tucked in here." I stroke the top of your head, then go to close the curtains, putting the room in a pleasant twilight._

_I kneel down next to you, hold you close. "Is there anything you would like me to get you? Cigarettes? Coffee? Beer?"_

 

 

"Whisky," I mutter from the duvet. "Please don't be gone for too long... I'm afraid it will close up and never open again..."

 

 

_"I will be back in ten seconds. I won't leave you alone for any longer." I kiss your head, run downstairs, grab a bottle of whisky and two glasses from the drinks cabinet, and rush upstairs again. I put the bottle and glasses on the nightstand, open it, and pour you a generous amount._

 

 

I watch as you pour. I throw back the duvet and start to pace.

"The thing is, Jim - you're not going to like this. Not one bit. And there's nothing I can do about it, not a goddamn thing..." I stalk over to the nightstand, grab the glass, and drain it. I squeeze the glass hard, and put it down very carefully. "I seem to have finished. Could I please have some more..."

 

 

_"Sure," I say, and pour you another, worried. I'm not going to like this? What could you have in your past that I'm not going to like? My imagination helpfully supplies dozens of scenarios but I suppress them as fast as I can - no use getting worked up before anything has been said - I need to stay calm, calm for you... You look haunted._

_"Sebastian... I love you. I made a vow. Whatever... whatever it is, we'll get through it together." I hope._

 

 

I snatch up the glass the second you've stopped pouring. I laugh, and it doesn't sound right to my ears - it sounds broken and fucked up and... not the way a loving person would laugh with their partner.

I return to my spot on the floor, and wrap myself in the duvet. I drink my whisky, forcing myself to take my time. "I don't know - will we? I think that's up to you. His name was David."

 

 

_Ice wraps around my heart. "Who was David?"_

 

 

"The ghost," I say in a hollow voice. "The ghost from my dream. How are you going to get past that, Jim?" I moan and start to sob, already broken.

 

 

_I wrap my arms around you. "I don't know, my love... I don't know what happened. Can you tell me, please?" I feel so powerless and so inadequate - I have no idea how to comfort you._

 

 

"I was 14 when I met him... 15 when he died. Because of me. The end." I say softly.

 

 

_"Seb... my love... I really hate putting you through this, and I am so sorry... but... please. Tell me. Tell me what happened to the sweet little laughing boy I saw in your childhood pictures. Please."_

 

 

"The sweet little laughing boy? Forget him. I did. He was not good enough.... not ever good enough to be a Lord. Because that's what mattered. My mother managed to keep my father at bay until I was an adolescent – ‘Let him have a childhood,’ I remember her saying, during one of their fights. But once I turned 13, I was his. Only- " my shoulders sagged.

"Nothing was enough. So I made _sure_ I wasn't good enough. Metal. Long hair. Drinking, drugs. I was out of control. He was apocalyptic. Threatened me with military school. So I cleaned up - just enough. But he was still disgusted by me when he realized what I was..."

I lift the glass with shaking hands to my lips, drink deep, and choke on the fiery liquid.

 

 

_I hand you a bottle of water. "Gay?" I ask in a barely audible breath once you have stopped coughing. I can imagine Lord Moran being mortified - the heir to his name... He's the type of twat to whom that means the world._

 

 

I lift my glass. "To the homosexual agenda corrupting our youth!" I drain the rest of the whisky, and toss the water bottle aside. "Although to be fair... I was fooling around with anyone whose pants I could get into - I just wanted things to be easy and fun. But honestly, I just feel something for men I don't feel for women... And to my father it really didn't matter that I slept with the occasional girl... I was his queer son, the embarrassment, already an epic failure at aristocracy at age 13. Sorry, daddy..." I throw my glass with a fury at the sliding door to the balcony. I look at you, and smile through my tears.

 

 

_Yeah that's why I brought two glasses - I maybe should have brought more. I'm pleased the glass is broken but the balcony door window appears intact. I pour you another whisky, hand it to you, kiss your cheek gently. I don't think I should talk._

 

 

I sigh. "You should probably stop handing me glasses. Who knows how many I'll go through, and they're not even ours." _Ours_ , I think, and a beam of sunlight pierces through the darkness.

"Anyway. I noticed David from back then," My heart squeezes at such a casual mention of his name, when I'd barely allowed myself to think of him in three decades.

"But we ran in different circles. He was an artistic kid, into drama and singing. I was one of the bad kids. He should have stayed away from me..." I stop, and press my lips together tightly.

 

 

_Pain is radiating off you in waves, I can almost feel them physically. Such pain... My Sebastian, my love... I wish I could do something, anything, to take some off this hurt off you._

_I can only sit here, my arm around you, stroking your arm with my free hand. Your beautiful arm, already tanned by the Mexican sun, with its familiar constellation of scars and birthmarks... Your gun arm, so unerring and confident in its aim. The arm that has held me so often, punched me, pulled me to safety, wanked me to orgasm. I stare at it like it's holding the secret to the universe, waiting for you to continue._

 

 

"Hold on a sec... I gotta do something... Just- don't be scared," I say softly, and kiss your shoulder.

I head to the walk-in closet where our luggage is stored. I walk out with a Beretta, slide open the door, and aim off the balcony. After firing off a storm of bullets, I walk back in, and slide the door shut, feeling eerily calm.

"Sorry, babe - that coconut has been rubbing me the wrong way since we got here. It won't bother us anymore." I throw the gun into the closet, walk back and wrap myself in the duvet. "I'll put it away later," I mumble, and drop my head in my hands.

 

 

_I'm glad you warned me not to be scared - the sight of you with a gun in your hand, when you're this volatile - well, it does kick my self-preservation instincts into gear._

_But killing can be an excellent way to calm down, even if it's killing a coconut, and I'm afraid that's all we have access to here. Better the coconut than me._

_I can't do anything but stroke your neck, your shoulders. I'm not sure if I should say something - decide to remain silent just a bit more._

 

 

"I want you to know-" I stop. "What do I want you to know?? I have no fucking idea... I haven't said his name in almost 30 years. He's no threat to you. Jim. I was 15. I had a 15 year old's feelings. You don't feel threatened by that, do you?" I ask, sadly. "You won't - stop caring?"

 

 

_"I don't feel threatened, or jealous, of course not," I say, and I find it's true - I don't. That was a lifetime ago, and I had never expected you not to have been in love or relationships before me - you're so passionate. Besides, I was nine at the time._

_‘You won't stop caring' you ask - how could I ever stop caring for you… your eyes so scared and sad - my big soldier, my little boy..._

_"I'll never stop caring, my love..." I say. And I mean it._

 

 

A shuddering sigh escapes from a broken part of me, and tears start spilling from my eyes. I take your hand, stare at it. "Good. Because it's hard enough to do this without worrying-" I choke back a sob.

 

 

_"Sebastian. You were there for me. You were there on the other side of hell. I'll be there for you. I promise. I'm not going anywhere. I'll not stop loving you."_

 

 

I sag forward onto you, and my head falls against your shoulder. "Oh God, Jim... the thought of losing you..." I'm making those shuddering breathing sounds from yesterday, like I've been sobbing for hours.

 

 

_"Never, Sebastian. Never. I made a vow; I have your initials carved over my heart, and you carved into my heart. I will always be your mine. Please, my darling, don't worry about that."_

 

 

My breathing slows a little. I rest my head against you, still touching your hand.

"I hate this. I hate this so much. I'm afraid - if I start talking about him, he- he'll come out of the dark box where I shoved him, and he won't forgive me..." I cover my mouth with my hand. "I shouldn't be confessing this to _you_... why should you have to hear it?? Doesn't it feel fucking weird?"

 

 

_Jesus._

_"Of course it feels weird. We've never done this kind of shit before. And - it hurts seeing you in pain. But I'm - scared, Seb. Scared that if you *don't*_ _talk about what's been haunting you, it will keep haunting you, and it will eat you up - *something*'s been eating you for years, and I suspect it's this, if this is the first thing you think of. I just - I can't just sit by and watch the love of my life rot away on the inside. I want you to be happy, and you haven't been, can't be. And - you're not loving me fully. Part of you is - stuck, hidden. And that's where it got stuck. And I need to know. And see if I can help you get it unstuck."_

 

 

"All right.. so you want to know the hidden part of me, the rotten part of me..." I say, bitterness filling me. "Get ready for a heart-warming story. It begins with David and me becoming friends at 14. Best friends. And David was gay, but he never wanted to sleep with me because I was a tramp even then. So we were friends until we were more. By the time I was 15... I was with him only. And... my parents knew the moment our relationship changed. My mom thought it was cute, I think. But she worried - and with good reason.. My father..." I clenched my jaw. "He-"

I look around for something to break or shoot. I whip the second glass against the door, and go to the nightstand to pick up the bottle. I bring it back, drinking deeply. "Sorry, babe..." I mutter.

 

 

_I definitely should have brought more glasses. It will be the bottle next._

_"'s'OK," I mumble, still stroking you. This is going to be it, isn't it. Why you hate your father so. I find myself already burning with hatred for him before I've even heard. I look at the floor._

 

 

I throw myself back on the floor, wrap myself in the duvet. "He railed at me. Called me a faggot, and a queer, and - said I wasn't fit to carry the name. And he was just sorry they never had any other kids, because I was worthless. He wrote me off - or I thought he did. Until the following week, when David told me he couldn't see me any more. I would have freaked out regardless, but - I knew he was holding something back. I knew he still loved me... so after days and days of me calling him, following him, begging, pleading, screaming... he finally admitted it. Some tough, older kids cornered him in an alley, roughed him up - told him to leave me alone, that I was meant for better things than him. He was scared. And I convinced him-" I stop. My shoulders start shaking. "I convinced him I'd look out for him. I called him a pussy. I told him we had to stand up to arseholes like that... for queer kids everywhere. _Anything_ I could think of to get him to come back. It wasn't hard... he was a 15 year old kid in love, and I was fucking charming and hot, even then. We were back together within the week. But of course you know this story does not have a happy ending..." I drank heavily from the bottle. "I hope you have more..."

 

 

 _"Yeah. Plenty," I manage to get out. I do not like where this is heading. I do *not*_ _like where this is heading at all. I feel the familiar red glow inside me, the rage building, which makes me shudder as I recall the dream rage of last night. But I won't touch you._

_I can't make any promises about Lord Augustus though._

 

 

"So... a few months passed. I kept an eye out for him, I was fucking vigilant. No more incidents. I started to relax..."

I feel rage moving through me. I spot a vase, take it to the balcony, and throw it hard against the patio. "We're going to have to pay for some damage to their possessions. I'll try not to damage the property. And just leave a big tip for housekeeping."

I sigh and plunk myself back on the floor. "So, where was I. OH. _This_ part... Can you guess what's coming, Jim?"

 

 

 _I shake my head. I'm not playing games with this. It's much, *much*_ _too raw._

 

 

"No? It's a classic tale. Boy pisses off father with his gay lover. Father takes matter into his own hands. Boy and his gay lover emerge victorious. Father goes next level..." I stop and stare at the floor. "You're probably wondering why he's still alive. The answer is... I don't know. My mother, I guess? And I was 15, and I didn't know for sure, only... I knew. They caught the men who did it - Daddy must not have known the right people to get real professionals. But they didn't say a word - other than doing a little weekend gay bashing. He - got beaten within an inch of his life. But it wasn't that what got him... they threw him in the river, and - official cause of death was drowning. So you see why... I couldn't tell you this by the fucking water..." I look at you. And it's like a vicious wind is coming from _somewhere_ but I can't stop it, and it rips me open, and I fall against you, as violent sobs start tearing through me... I'm not making it out of this alive, part of me thinks calmly...

 

 

 _I'm trembling with rage, but I suppress it violently - murderous rage can come *later*, now you are a *supportive fucking husband*, James Moriarty, and I don't care that you don't know how to be one, you're a fucking *genius*, work it out! Just do what he did yesterday - I find myself longing to have a go at the palm tree, but not now, not yet, not when I have a fifteen-year-old boy in my arms crying his heart out because his fucking *father*_ _killed his boyfriend - no, wrong thoughts, it's igniting the rage again - focus on *Sebastian*_ _–_

_I hold you close, supporting you as you lean on me, your head on my shoulder, your body racked with the sobs, and the sound... so desperate... so lost... It tears my heart to see you like this, to feel you like this..._

_And a small part of me, a dreadful hateful part of me, is slightly relieved - when you said I wasn't going to like it, that you didn't think I could get past it - my brilliant imagination provided me with the most horrid scenarios that could have been hurtful to *me*. And Awful Moriarty is relieved none of them have been revealed to be true. I push that part of myself away in disgust - so fucking *selfish*... Will I ever learn?_

_I stroke your back, whisper in your ear - I'm not sure if you hear all the words, you're crying so vehemently, but you'll get the sense of it... "I love you Sebastian. I love you so much. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. It's - awful. Incredibly cruel and horrid. My love, my poor strong brave love... I love you..."_

_My mind, which seems determined to be as unhelpful as it can today, reminds me of the job a couple of years ago where I made a young boy's older female lover disappear for his dad... You weren't involved in that, fortunately - a standard job, didn't need your skills. My guys weren't arrested, of course. Looked like an accident, all neat and tidy._

_I look at my mind in puzzlement - is it trying to make me feel *guilty*? For doing my *job*? Look - I started caring for *you*. Doesn't mean I'm about to make a habit of it and start caring for the whole damn planet. I would never stop fucking crying._

_*Speaking*_ _of which, you're trying to care for your inconsolable Tiger, you fucking psychopath. Stay with the programme._

_I keep holding you close, whispering sweet words, assuring you of my love for you, until the crying finally subsides a little bit._

 

 

I don't know how long I'm sobbing in your arms... I go to a very faraway place. I'm dimly aware of your presence, holding me, keeping me anchored to this world. These feelings - I remember these feelings, from so long ago. For all intents and purposes, they destroyed me - the Sebastian that was, was no longer. Everything I am has been built around the annihilation of Sebastian. So to return to this place that had been cordoned off, imprisoned, then buried under ten tons of rock.. feels impossible. I wasn't ever supposed to find it again. And you made me tunnel through all those rocks to get here...

 

One thing's for certain - with my lifelong flirtation with death, I never could have faced these feelings again and lived to tell about it - if you weren't my anchor.

 

I come back to myself, lying across your lap, with your arms wrapped around me tightly. How did I get here? I don't remember lying down...

My sobbing is slowing down. I reach out and grab the water bottle I had tossed aside. I drink half of it in one go. "Now what?" I ask hoarsely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Play list:
> 
> Heropsychodreamer - Live  
> Problem Child - AC/DC  
> The Power of Love - Frankie Goes To Hollywood  
> Monster - Skillet  
> Wandering Star - Portishead  
>   
> "Maybe I'm a coward, I'm only scared of you  
> Yes I'm scared of you  
> 'Cause I'm alive and I'm aware  
> Of what's going on around here  
> I'm a coward  
> I'm neurotic  
> I'm just tired of living in here  
> I'm depressive  
> I'm obsessive  
> I'm just tired of living in fear"  
> \- Coward (Holly McNarland)


	5. Let It Bleed

_Now what? You’re asking *me*? Like I know anything about how to fix this - how to fix you?!_

_Yes Jim - you wanted to own him? You megalomaniac? Well, then you’re responsible for him. So - make it right. Or as right as you humanly can._

_“Now... “ I say. A promising start. I wonder what I’m going to say next._

_“Now we do whatever you think you need. We’ve cut open the wound - let a whole load of pus out - now we gently care for the open wound, let it bleed without stress to clean it, then put healing balm on it. I don’t know what you need, my love. I’m here. I’m not leaving. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll always be here.”_

_My thoughts are a turmoil of revenge, devastation, anger, love, compassion (huh) and - yes - jealousy (fuck’s sake Jim!), but I keep the tumultuous ones perfectly suppressed, only letting the love and compassion out. Stroking you, holding you close - I remember how essential that was to me yesterday._

_God, some honeymoon..._

 

 

Can't you just tell me what to do?? Don't you know everything?

It's a good thing you're not jealous, because you wouldn't like this next part...

"I think... fuck," I let out a small sob. "I think I need to - talk to him. Tell him I'm- sorry... God, that sounds so fucking pathetic... Sorry??? I'm sorry! Sorry I'm such a SELF-OBSESSED NARCISSIST that I just had to have what I wanted! Sorry I told you to grow some fucking balls!! And to man the fuck up!!" I start to laugh hysterically. "Sorry Daddy had you KILLED..."

I'm halfway across the room before I know it - the sliding door is thrown open, and the lamp I've torn from the outlet is being hurled at the patio.

"... so I could be a perfect little lord instead of his cocksucking faggot son!" I scream from the balcony. "I'm sorry you FUCKING DIED ALONE-" these words are swallowed by a roar, and then I turn to look back at whatever else I can destroy.

Another vase. And then it's gone - smashed into oblivion. I look back at you, sitting frozen on the floor, looking stressed out of your mind.

"It's not enough!! Punching a tree is NOT ENOUGH!! I want grenades! I want a flame-thrower! I want-" I storm into the closet, and emerge with a semi-automatic pistol. From the balcony, I start to shoot.

"I'M SORRY THEY BEAT YOU! I'M SORRY THEY FUCKING DROWNED YOU!!! I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY AND IT'S NOT FUCKING ENOUGH!! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?? WHAT CAN I POSSIBLY DO?? I CAN'T BRING YOU BACK!! I'M SORRY!!!" I scream at the top of my lungs in a firestorm of bullets. I stop shooting. I eject the clip, throw the gun down, and stare out from the balcony.

 

"I can't bring him back.." I say in a dazed voice. I stagger backwards towards the wall of the house, and slide down to the wooden floor. I stare out at the sky, panting, while tears pour from my eyes.

 

 

 _I’ll need to do *something*, or you’ll destroy the entire villa. And it’s what I do, isn’t it? I’m the mastermind... except my masterful mind is not helping at all. I’m occupied suppressing the jealousy at you addressing your ex-lover (_ it was ages ago! _yes but he’s still talking to him!_ yes because he’s only just now got in touch with his past again! _well I didn’t see him destroy the fucking apartment when I was dead!_ he was going to commit suicide! _yes well he didn’t did he?!_ WOULD YOU RATHER HE HAD?!? _NO!!!!) and the revenge fantasies - but - maybe that’s helpful? No - not yet. You need to experience the pain before we morph it into anger - anger is a very effective way of suppressing pain and we’re not doing that again._

 _I walk outside and slide down next to you. “It was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. No one could have expected your father to do something so utterly insane. Everything you said, about standing up for yourself, not letting yourself be bullied into becoming something you were not - that was right. It wasn’t big mean Seb luring an innocent boy wilfully into danger. No one could have foreseen this. You wouldn’t have expected your father to actually commit_ * _murder*. You were brave, fighting for what you and David both wanted, fighting for gay rights - there is only one party here who is to blame, and that is Lord Augustus. Completely and solely.”_

_I hold you, stroke your shoulders, your arm. I pray I’m reaching you in some way._

 

 

I'm in a daze, tears flowing, but I hear your voice. Your words. You're with me...

I look over at you. You're being so unbelievably understanding, supportive - considering I'm vomiting up feelings about another man. Well - not quite a man at that point. But someone I loved.

I search for my guilt, my self-loathing, my fury at myself... it seems to have receded with your words.

"Brave? Or did I just hate people telling me what to do??" I look at you, tears still spilling down my cheeks. "David was brave, but I pushed him into it... I didn't know then that being brave had consequences. I would have died before I let anyone push me into being someone I wasn't. But maybe he wasn't as ready as me... and I'll never know."

I look down, take a deep breath. "I know the next thing I have to do... I have to talk to him - really talk to him, not just scream and shoot up patio furniture. We need new chairs, Jim. Oh God, I don't think you want to be there for this conversation. I have no idea what I'm going to say, but - it'll be my 15 year old self talking, and there's a limit to how supportive you should have to be. I'm going to go to the sea, and.... say goodbye."

I dissolve into tears, and cover my face with my hands.

 

 

 _“I’m not leaving you alone,” I say decisively. Oh really Jim? You’re going to be there when he talks to his dead lover? Ironic, you weren’t there when *you*_ _were the dead lover. You’re going to suppress your jealousy then?_

 _Damn fucking right I am. I’m not going to be jealous of a fifteen-year-old boy who was dead before I was a teenager. I’m *not*. And I’m *not*_ _leaving Seb to deal with this alone._

_“I’m with you, my love. If you need to say goodbye, I’ll be there holding and supporting you. Unless you really don’t want me to - which is fine. But I want to be there for you whatever. Even - if you want me physically there but don’t want me to hear your private words, I’ll put earphones in. But - I’m here for you whatever you want and need. And - give my love and sympathies to David. I never met him - but if you loved him so much - well I hope you had better taste back then than now.”_

 

 

I cry harder. "Better taste? This isn't exactly a competition - you know that, right? I loved him like a 15 year old - like my own gay Romeo & Juliet story, all hormones and 'they can't keep us apart!' diatribes. But he was _sweet_ … and he was _talented_ … and he never had a _chance_... And I _owe him_...everything I wasn't able to give him then." I sniffle, close my eyes.

"I had a complete breakdown after. I was like a zombie. They tried to hospitalize me, medicate me... I threatened to kill myself if they did. And I would have fucking done it. And they believed me, so - they left me alone. My mother was terrified, my father figured I would get over it and he would bide his time until I was ready for his illustrious mentorship. Only... I never really got over it. I just buried it. So there are words to be said..." I look at you through teary eyes. "And you - you would be there for that? I want you with me - I always want you with me. But - wouldn't that be too hard, Jim? If you want to put headphones in, I completely understand..."

 

 

 _"Sebastian - I'm not jealous of your first love. I mean yeah, a part of me wishes you'd never loved anyone but me - but even *I*_ _know that's irrational. And - your first love is overwhelming, all-encompassing - like you said, Romeo and Juliet level. And you never had a chance to... get used to the feeling, like most people do. It always stayed that level of intensity, frozen in time where you had buried it, until now._

 _Of *course* you are going to be overwhelmed, with sadness and grief, but also with the love for him coming back. And I would be quite unreasonable if I took umbrage at that." (_ Hear that, Moriarty?! _) "I mean - I was *nine* at the time. Wasn't even interested in boys yet. I could hardly have expected you to get over to Dublin and pick out this annoying smartarse kid as the love of your life. It wouldn't make any sense for me to be jealous. And this is going to be so hard for you and I want to be there, I want to hold you, cry with you, support you...."_

_I hope I'm convincing you. I'm really really trying to convince myself._

 

 

I laugh through my tears. "Yeah, well - if I had known you were out there... once it was all, you know, _legal_... nothing would have stopped me from finding you. But maybe getting together earlier would have been a total shitshow." I'm silent for a moment.

"Jim-" I say, seriously. "Just so you know... you're still an annoying smartarse..." I chuckle, and nudge you with my shoulder, "... _and_ the love of my life. That hasn't changed. Saying goodbye to him... is also about saying goodbye to someone who was a friend to me during a difficult time in my life..." I look sadly out at the sky, and take your hand.

 

 

_It comforts me more than I want to admit to hear that I am the love of your life still. And it releases the jealousy a bit more. You were a *kid*. A kid in love. With another kid - who loved you - who can blame him? And got killed for it. God damn it, Lord Augustus, you are so dead._

_I take your hand. "Let's go talk to him then. I'm right here with you. I will always be with you."_

 

 

I take a deep, shaky breath. "This morning, in my dream... the ocean spat him out... It was terrifying... He was dead and it felt like he was angry. Blaming me after all these years. But maybe it was just what I was feeling about myself - I hope so. I would never face this without you - you know that? I don't want to face it now, either but - I feel like I could do anything with you." I stand up, pull you up. "You're sure you want to do this?"

 

 

 _"Absolutely Tiger. You'll never have to face anything this hard alone any more." I kiss your hand. "And - you are right. *You*_ _are blaming yourself, for something that was not in the slightest your fault. I am *very*_ _good at finding fault, as you know, and even I can't bend this situation into any shape where it could look like you have *any*_ _blame."_

_We walk down the stairs hand in hand, walk down the patio, trying to avoid all the shards of glass, down the beach - you've made short work of the lounge chairs, but I'm sure they're still comfortable even with a few holes in them - to the sea. Your hand is trembling in mine._

 

 

I walk across the patio, slow down as we reach the sand, and then stop halfway across the beach. I'm carrying the whisky bottle in one hand, grasping your hand tightly in the other.

I look out at the waves, and then at you, terrified. "What if - he hates me..." I whisper, panic starting to rise.

 

 

_I know Tiger. I know. All the nights that I saw Georgie come into my bedroom, dripping blood, pale. "It's your fault, Jimmy. You said you'd always protect me. You didn't, Jimmy. You let me be hurt. You left me. You left me to die all alone. I was so scared, Jimmy..." He'd tear me to pieces then. Or, worse, start crying and not let me console him._

_"He wouldn't hate you, Tiger. He loved you. You showed him what love is - defiance of all that stands in your way. You didn't force him - he *wanted*_ _to love you. He wanted to live in a world where that was accepted and appreciated. You fought for him; you fought for that. He could never hate you."_

 

 

I shake my head. "Everything you say makes sense. When you look at it logically, I don't know why I've been hiding from this moment for my entire life. And yet..." I take a deep breath. "I just hope you're right..."

I take a step, falter, continue. I walk, gripping your hand hard, until I reach the shore. I look down at the water lapping at the sand. I let go of your hand, and walk into the water until I'm submerged to my waist. "David? I'm here..." I bite my lip. "Sorry I'm 27 years late..."

I look out at the waves, and I see his smiling face. "Oh.." I say softly.

 

 

_I wait on the land - this is between you and the water. The water which has given us so much, but also took your love from you all those years ago. I keep a close eye on you - the moment it seems like you need me I'll be there._

_You're talking - and then - a sound of recognition. Do you see him, your personal ghost? I hope he's not as scary as you feared him to be for all those years. I hope he's nice to you. He better be nice to you. I'm not sure how I'll kick his arse if he isn't, but I'll find a way._

 

 

"So what I should have told you then, and I'm so sad now I didn't... is just... I'm so fucking sorry. For all of it. I'm sorry my father is a murderous beast. I'm sorry your life got cut short when you were full of so much love and potential. I'm sorry I lost your friendship - you know how much I adored you. And I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard - I just - needed you. I was a mess and I needed you. So - I'm sorry I wasn't stronger."

I curl my hands into fists, and relax them. "I'm sorry that I don't even know what I could have done differently... I never would have given up what we had because of other people in a million years. But if I had known - obviously I would have done anything so that you could live. And grow up. And become who you were meant to be. You would have been amazing. Whatever happened between us, I would have always been your friend.

Thank you for being there for me... Thank you for helping me believe I was worthy of love... I didn't believe it after you died, but - it only took me 27 years to remember. To let someone into my heart. To believe it was worth the risk to let myself be loved again..." I look back at you, waiting for me on the shore, and I smile through my tears. I turn back.

"You'd think he was a pretentious twat, wouldn't you. You're right. But I think you would have appreciated him - you always loved a drama queen, didn't you...

David - I hope wherever you are now - it's good. And I hope you can forgive me. I didn't think I was worthy of that - but - I know you would have. And if you're in your next life, then - I hope you're having the best time ever... You deserve it.

Actually - I thought this was just a goodbye, but - maybe we'll talk again. I miss you. And you will always be in my heart."

I kiss my hand, and hold it up to the wind, willing it to blow out to wherever it needs to go. Then I unscrew the cap of the whisky, take a swig, and pour the rest into the sea. "I gave you your first whisky, so this is only fitting. Just try not to get sick this time, you pansy."

He laughs, and then disappears beneath the waves. I turn and see you waiting for me - I will never forget the look on your face - I see so much love, concern, but also a little fear. And I start running towards you before I even realize it. When I reach you, I lift you up and I start kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

 

 

 _The wind blows your words to me, and tears stream down my face, as I can see the fifteen-year-old boy you were, bent double with grief, being eaten by guilt over the death of his love - murdered by his megalomaniac arsehat of a father. I mean, I'll be the first to admit that I can be a bit megalomaniac sometimes - but at least I never wanted to have children_ _to continue my empire when I'm gone._

_And - you believe you're worthy of love. You didn't when we were first together. You most definitely didn't. Which is why I was so perfect for you - the man incapable of loving and the man incapable of accepting love._

_I know I love now, but I have seen your fear and hesitation even in the past few days - fear that if you let yourself be loved, you'd be left alone again. It's really good to hear you say that you believe it's worth the risk..._

_... and then you go and call me a pretentious twat. Of course. Always the romantic._

 

_But - you think he'd have appreciated me. And for a moment I see a parallel reality - where you and he broke up, as young loves do, but remained friends, and you introduced us, your new love to your best friend, and I see a face - artistic, sensitive - and it smiles at me, and it tells me to better take good care of Seb, and us having a drink and laughing, because in this parallel world I'm not as fucked up as I am - and I like this guy, who treats you like a brother._

_You say he'll always be in your heart, and it doesn't hurt - it feels like the way Georgie will always be in mine. And when you run back to me and sweep me up and kiss me, I feel nothing but relief at your changed expression, at the burden you seem to have left in the sea, at your enthusiastic kisses._

 

 

"Jim..." I say in between kisses. "I know you said you were fine, but - I _know_ you..." I hold your face in my hands. "Baby - I'm so sorry if this was difficult for you. The thought of anyone comparing to you is laughable - Did you hear what I said to him?" You nod, looking so relieved. "So, then... you know how I feel. Jim..." I whisper, looking into your eyes. "You're my true love...you're my always." And I pull you back towards me, kissing you hungrily.

 

 

 _That’s... reassuring to hear. I’m trying, I really am, and I’m doing quite well I think but I *am*_ _a jealous bastard, and you saying that I’m your incomparable true love - it really helps._

_Overall, I do feel like this has done you good. You seem - sad, yes, hurting, but - that core of pain, that place that I’ve been noticing the past days you kept away from me, seems to have opened up, seems to be tentatively allowing me to look inside. I kiss you back with equal hunger - ah. Hunger. There’s my Tiger. Thank goodness - he’s back._

_Our hands roam over each other, our mouths seeking succour in each other, and I hold you tight, determined to make you feel loved and supported - and wanted, because it’s clear that that’s what you desire now and god, of course I want you - you are *my*_ _first love... but that’s an observation, not jealousy._

_I lean my head on your shoulder, and say in a low voice, “I love you Tiger. You are my life. And - I want you. Any way you want, Tiger. Anything....”_

 

 

"Any way I want, huh?" I muse. I kiss you deeply. "What if I want all our ways? For the rest of the day... I want to fuck. I want to suck. And I want - to make love with you. I've never said those words to a living soul, and I would never have dreamed of saying them to you in a million trillion years, but - I want everything."

My arms tighten around you, as I kiss your neck, murmuring against your skin and making you shiver. "And there's more... so much more. I've been in a horrible, suffocating prison for 27 years... and you forced me to free myself from my chains, and break out. I don't think I can ever express to you what that means to me, or thank you enough - other than spending the rest of my life trying. And now that I'm free, I just keep thinking... how much more of me there is for you to claim. Because I do want to be claimed by you... bossy little fucker..." I smile at you slyly. "Being off the leash has been so good for me, but - I think I'm ready to remember what it feels like to be _on_..."

I look down at you, feeling the heat rising between us. "I want you to fucking _own me_ , Jim… do you want that, baby?"

 

 

 _That’s the *best*_ _thing you could have said Seb. All of it._

 _That I forced you to break free from your prison and that you are so grateful for it - after I felt like such a monster for forcing you to do this against *all*_ _your will. I was terrified you’d hurt for a long time and would resent me - but it turned out really well. If I can keep my jealousy in check - and that is neatly being addressed by your next point - you want me to claim you, own you further, put you back on the leash. Which is exactly what will make me feel like you’re *mine*_ _completely. I mean I *know*_ _you are - but knowing and feeling deep down are two different things._

_“I do own you, my love... that’s never been in question. So... you want the leash back do you? Getting a bit uncomfortable out here in the free world?”_

_I pull you close, bite your neck - just a nip, but it makes you groan._

_“You can stop with this ‘baby’ nonsense for a start. You’ll address me in the usual manner. No touching unless given permission or orders - but you’re to speak freely. I want to hear your thoughts._

_And, ‘baby’ - unlike before - if you’re uncomfortable with *anything*, tell me and I *will*_ _listen._

_Alright?”_

 

 

"More than alright, Boss... or do you prefer Sir?" I shiver as I feel your mouth on my neck. There was such a wide range of activity I told you I wanted. But we wouldn't be us if we didn't go for this right away, would we, baby... oh. Better keep that in check. I grin, and then manage to stifle it, but I'm sure you can see it in my eyes.

 

 

_“Forgotten the proper address already Tiger? It’s been too long since you’ve felt my control, hasn’t it... Poor Seb... So lost...” I stroke your cheek gently, seeing you look at me with such longing..._

_“Boss when we’re working. Sir any other time. Jim is a privilege... which you may or may not earn today.”_

 

 

Am I really going to be able to keep my mouth in check? If not... I guess _I'm_ the one who's in for it... Mmm... well, that could be fun, too. Maybe I don't need to be an obedient Tiger _right_ away... would you like that? Bringing me to submission... mmm...

"I'm all caught up now... _Sir._ " I stare at you, and I'm sure my smirk will not be missed.

 

 

 _I narrow my eyes. It’s like that, is it? You want me to *take*_ _control, rather than giving it freely. Mmmm... it’s been a *long*_ _time since I tamed a Tiger._

_I grab your hair, bend your head back, bite your neck - taking your shoulder muscle between my teeth, combining the pain from my teeth piercing your skin with that of your tense muscle being pinched, enjoying your groan and shiver._

_“Oh I don’t think you’re caught up at all, Tiger. I think you’ve forgotten all I spent so long teaching you... Does that mean I have to start all over again at the beginning?” I scratch at one of the scars from our first night together... such a lovely memory._

 

 

Fuuuck… _yes_ … The space of time between narrowing your eyes, and my head being pulled back, my neck being bitten by you... feels like a fraction of a second. A fraction of a second, and it all comes rushing back to me... but I still want to make you work for it, sweetheart...

"I may have forgotten a few things... is starting at the beginning really necessary, Sir?" I rub my head against yours. Wasn't supposed to touch - oops.

 

 

_“Apparently it is,” I say. “First of all, I said no touching.” I step back, facing you. You look at me with a priceless expression - apprehension, lust, cheek..._

_I slap the offending cheek, hard, but it’s less damaging than a punch. Your eyes blaze as you face me again - and I slap again, same cheek._

_“You know I brought the knife from our first night - I am a romantic, after all... But first - on your knees.”_

_Normally you couldn’t disobey that command if you tried... I wonder how far your rebellion will go._

 

 

I stare at you for a long moment. "Sir is nothing if not romantic… and I'm nothing if not happy to oblige." I lower myself slowly down to one knee, look up at you and raise an eyebrow.

Ohh, I am really pushing it … I stop myself from laughing, and take the other knee.

 

 

_I’m almost sorry I allowed speaking. You’re really pushing it... my wonderful love, want to really feel my iron fist, don’t you?_

_What to do with you... obviously I’ll want the blowjob I missed this morning, but it looks like you’re keen for a bit more pain first. I did not plan for this (I mean - we *were*_ _going outside to say goodbye to your childhood boyfriend after you’d shot up the beach furniture) so I may need to do a strategic retreat first._

_I turn around and walk off. You should know better than to move..._

 

 

You turn and walk away. I _think_ you're enjoying this... _I'm_ sure as fuck enjoying this... in the past, I would have been freaking out while waiting, wondering if I'd pissed you off. Now I'm just wondering how far to take this... I hadn't planned it, hell, I _asked_ you for it, for fuck's sake... But I haven't had a collar in a year, and the rebellion that reared up was very real, and I'm going to ride it for all it’s worth. And you'll just have to take it out on my hide... darling.

I eye the sand, imagine what you'd do if you found me sitting when you returned, and allow myself a moment of unbridled laughter.

 

 

 _I get my bag with the tools of the trade. I look at the beach from the window - ah good, you’re still on your knees - you’re not pushing me *too*_ _far. I pick up your gun from the balcony and put it back in the wardrobe. So odd to think it was only what - half an hour ago that you were shooting and screaming out your pain and despondency?_

_And now we’re ready to have some proper quality time..._

_Like I said, some honeymoon._

_I walk out on the beach and seeing you waiting for me on your knees makes me mad with love - I put down the bag and walk over to you, grab your hair, pull your head back, bend over and kiss you hard and hungrily._

 

 

Your kiss sets me on fire - my head, my heart, my groin... Fuck… I'm glad I didn't sit, that would have been a very different greeting. I kiss you back, ecstatic - when you pull away, I'm already breathing hard.

 

 

_Right - it seems we got you in the right mood - out of rebellion and into the large pupil-hard cock mode. Even in this sunshine..._

_The first thing I take out of the bag is the sunblock - I'm perfectly fine torturing my Tiger on the beach, but I'm not going to suffer for it._

_I hand it to you. "Put that on me."_

 

 

"It would be my pleasure, Sir..." Behind your back, I'm grinning like a loon. Well, this feels pretty good so far - my hands are all over your skin, and I'm taking my sweet time making sure all exposed areas are covered. By the time I reach your front, I've managed to subdue my smile. But I playfully plunk a dollop of sunblock on your nose before spreading it evenly over your face. I have no trouble not smiling now, because I'm pretty sure you're going to murder me... but what a way to go, I think dreamily.

 

 

 _God, Tiger, I'm never letting you off the leash again. You're *way*_ _too hard to get back on..._

_But I have to admit - I love that you feel like you can be playful with me, rather than having to constantly walk on eggshells to not rub me the wrong way. But I do recognize the need behind the brattiness - you're pushing because you want me to crack down, and I couldn't do worse than not doing that._

_So... how to tame a Tiger who is begging for me to make it painful..._

_"Do you remember when I cut open the sole of your foot?" I ask, innocently._

 

 

I heave a sigh. "Yes... how could I forget... Sir."

Brattiness recedes... Jesus, bring out the big guns already... I don't relish the idea of getting gritty sand into a painful wound for the rest of our stay…

 

 

_"I told you how the soles of the feet are some of the most sensitive areas of the human body... You were reluctant; you were only too aware of it, but... well, I get what I want, don't I? And you put that knowledge to good use when torturing others. See, it was an investment in my asset._

_Oh don't look like that, I'm not going to cut your foot open - I will *some*_ _day, I still owe you the other foot, but not now - unless you're specifically annoying, or I feel like it..._

_Anyway. You were always very protective of your feet after that... but they're so beautifully exposed now..." I stroke my fingers down your feet, and you grit your teeth trying not to let it tickle you._

_I go to the bag, aware of your eyes on me. I turn around, holding one of the most efficient instruments I own - a simple cane. Thin, the perfect blend between rigid and flexible, and deadly in the right hands. And there are no better hands than mine..._

_I squat beside you, moving your toes into the sand so the soles are nice and stretched, bend down, press a kiss onto each, then sit up and *lash*_ _down onto your feet. You wanted pain - you got it, Tiger. Don't ever forget that I *am*_ _pain._

 

 

Oh, right... _this_ is why I was generally so obedient... because no one issues pain like you do. I've had a year to forget this level of pain... the pain that I feel now lashing down on me now, hard, fiery, unforgiving...

I try not to make a sound, but it's too much to hold back. I groan loudly, and feel my eyes sting with tears.

 

 

_You are remarkable in your restraint - you shiver and your feet twinge, but you hold them in position. And oh god your groan... there is no more exquisite sound in the world than Sebastian in pain, pain inflicted and controlled by me. I'm not going to push your limits today, my love, but you need to feel this, feel the pain of being owned by Jim Moriarty, the pain that you crave, because every bit of it reminds you that you are finally *home*. Home under my hurtful hands, home under my control._

_And - well I'm not just doing this to be altruistic. I need your pain as much as you Sebastian. I need to see you cry, see you break - see you bend your head in submission to my command again. I love you and cherish you and want you to be happy and free - but for you, the only way to be truly free is in surrender to me. We are symbiotic, my love... Completely fucked up and insane, but we are a *perfect*_ _fit._

_I lash your feet again - a little below the last one._

 

 

I throw my head back from the hot lash of pain, groaning deep in my throat. _Fuck_... how did I forget this? I'm already so used to sweet Jim, loving Jim, playful Jim… how did I forget just how vicious you could be... and as much as I long to be swept away by your dominance... I am not there yet, not nearly there, there are layers upon layers of resistance.... and you are going to make me suffer before we get to the bottom... aren't you, my love... aren't you...

 

 

_You're resisting - I need to break your resistance, but I have more resources at this point than I did before._

_I lash again, a third stripe on your feet, and I see you clench your muscles, see the tears in your eyes, hear your groan._

_I kneel down in front of you, and put my arms around you. "It's alright my Seb... my love. I know it's hard. It hurts... But I'm doing this because I love you. You know that. You want to be owned by me - *need*_ _to be owned by me. And I need to own you. You need the pain, my love... Need it to remind you that you are mine... I love you *so much*_ _Sebastian."_

_I hold you close, feel you calm down, relax into my embrace. I kiss your tears._

_"You're halfway through, my love. Just a few more. You can bear this, for me... Can't you?"_

 

 

I look up at you, my breathing slowing down. "I can bear it for you..." I say in a low voice. "It's just been such a very long time..." I sigh. "I can't not be owned by you... I need to belong to you... but I - don't know how to get there... will you take me there... Sir?"

 

 

_"Of course, my love. I'm here every step of the way. You'll never be alone again. Remember the first time... you had a lot of resistance then. But we got through it." I kiss your cheeks, your lips. "Ready?"_

 

 

I close my eyes, feeling your lips press against me. "Ready..." I breathe.

 

 

_My beautiful brave soldier. I feel tears wanting to come to my eyes - not now._

_I move back to your side, lash the cane down, watch your tears, your clenching, hear your groan. And I notice - my cock isn't hard any more. This has gone beyond sex - it's about love. About identity. I'm acutely aware of every response of your body, your face, whatever can tell me how you are feeling, at which point of the journey you are. I'm so focused - the sex will happen, at some point, but we're performing a very delicate dance now, and it needs all my attention._

_Another lash._

 

 

Something's happening... the pain is becoming a constant presence, not just appearing suddenly with each lash... but each lash is increasing the intensity... the pain is... comforting... the pain is... pleasure.... the pain is... you. love. darkness. When the next lash comes, I'm ready for it... and I moan...

 

 

_And the last one. On your feet, at least. You've crossed a threshold. It's harder when I start with the intense pain, I know Tiger... but you knew what you were asking for when you were pushing. It's not quite the same as when it's a gradual buildup, is it..._

_I move to your front again, kiss your forehead. "That's it Tiger, you're doing so great... Just let go, my love. There's a lot more pain to come... And it's so much easier if you don't resist it, you know that. I love you, my husband..."_

_You look up at me, and I kiss you deeply. God, I love you *so much*..._

_I take the waist band of your shorts, still damp, pull them down._

_"Lie down on your front, my love..."_

 

 

This is new, this is _so new_... there's a familiarity to it after so many years spent under your whipping hand. But this - it feel simultaneously less and more intimidating than before. Less so, because I know you love me and want what's best for me. More so, because... fucking hell, I've given you _all_ of myself. I've held nothing back unlike in the past. I've willingly come to you for submission, _asked_ you for it... it's like I have less of a buffer between you and me, and it's scary in an entirely different way. Good scary, but also just plain scary as hell...

 

And now I'm half naked, lying down in the sand at your feet...bloody hell, what now... I wince in anticipation, but the corners of my mouth lift up...

 

 

_Getting there Tiger..._

_I lean down next to you, pull off your t-shirt and your shorts, so you're lying naked before me - so incredibly beautiful. I stroke your body, slowly, with intention. Your back with the M just healing - I can't stop myself from kissing it, licking along the lines - "You're mine, Tiger... every inch of your body, every thought you have, every breath you take - mine... I love you so much, I'll take such good care of you - all you need to do is to surrender completely, not hold anything back... I'm sure you can do that, I have such faith in you... and I'm with you every step of the way, my love..."_

_I kneel beside you. Your back is off limits, with the M just healing, but your sexy arse is mine... it's got the weals from the whip still but it can take more..._

_I lash the cane down._

 

 

I shiver when I feel your mouth on the M... you never could resist a fresh wound, little vampire... and then your words make me shiver even more... My mind keeps being pulled back to what I experienced today, to remembering David... but you seem very serious about claiming _everything_ , and it's near impossible to focus on anything but you. And then - a lash of hard, hard pain and I cry out. Shit - I usually last longer before making any real noise... I want to surrender, but I'm fucking stubborn... better dig deep, Seb...

 

 

_A cry - you’d try to resist more usually. A good sign. “That’s it, my love, let it go... let me take you on a journey of pain, and see what’s on the other side...”_

_The cane looks so innocuous - an instrument for school children - but it’s absolutely vicious. Beautiful parallel stripes appear where I just lashed. I aim a little higher, let fly again. Again you cry out, and again I strike._

 

 

Well, shit... this is not going how I planned, at all... My beautiful, fucking sadist, how did I think I could get under your skin?? _fuuuuuck_ … I manage to keep my cry in, this time. _Just breathe..._

 

 

_“Don’t hold it in, my love... Cry out if you want to, let me hear your pain...” I pause, lean down to stroke you again, your hair, your back, your arse with the three lines. I kiss them._

_“I know it’s hard, my love... you haven’t suffered at my hands for so long, you’ve lost the way. Just trust me, let me take you there...”_

_I sit back, lash down again._

 

 

"Fuck!" I yell. "Motherfuck, that fucking _hurts_..." I pant, and manage a small, secret smile.

 

 

_“That’s the idea, yes... and it’s going to hurt a lot more if you keep resisting, you know that, don’t you?” I stroke your arse, then lash again. “I love you my Sebastian...” and again._

 

 

"Of course, I know..." I groan. " _FUCK!_ "

 

 

_Six parallel lines decorate your delightful bottom, and you’ll expect this to be it - so I lash again, diagonally, crossing over all the previous ones._

 

 

I give a strangled cry. "Oh, fucking Christ," I groan. "Are we done yet... Sir?"

 

 

_“You know that we’re done when I say we’re done, sweetheart. And I won’t say we’re done until I’m happy. And I won’t be happy until I am fully convinced that you’re mine, completely and utterly. I’ve got all day, and all night, and tomorrow... as long as I need to be satisfied, Sebastian.”_

_I help you up on your knees, kiss you deeply, lovingly, hungrily. Then I take a pair of handcuffs out of the bag, cuff your hands behind your back, stand in front of you._

_“I didn’t get my morning blowjob. You have five minutes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Play list:
> 
> Let It Bleed - Rolling Stones


	6. I'm Fucking Yours, and I Always Will Be

"As you wish, Sir..." I look down at your cock with pleasure, and then back up at you. "Thank you..." I say under my breath, and go to work. It feels good to take a break from the relentless lashing of the cane, although the pain from my arse and feet is fading into a pleasant stinging sensation... and I'm surprised to be given the pleasure of blowing you when I haven't exactly been a model submissive.

I moan as I suck you, and look up at you. There's concern in your eyes... shit. I did that. I'm not reacting like you're used to. I don't think I can react like I used to... I think it's going to be something new, that neither of us know yet... how do I let you know that? Am I supposed to say something? How much time just passed while I was thinking about something other than your beautiful cock? One minute ? Two?? I suck harder and faster.

 

 

_You are not responding like you used to... you’ve changed. Well, that makes sense... but it means I will have to find my way around again. Can’t just rely on old patterns._

_Interesting, but challenging - it’s not like you’re in a very stable place at the moment anyway. I need to get this right, and I’m grasping in the dark. Damn._

_Keep a very close eye, watch for those signals. I thought you were asking for pain when you were bratting, but the pain doesn’t seem to have had its usual effect on you._

_You’re loving sucking my cock, you always do - but then?_

_Later, Moriarty, first concentrate on the sucking, or the poor boy will miss his deadline because you’re too distracted. That would be an affront to the best cocksucker in the Northern Hemisphere._

I'm moaning as I blow you, and the combination of handcuffs and stinging pain is such a pleasure. So different from the past few days... I can't fondle your arse, or cup your balls, or caress your thighs... but I'm completely at your disposal, and that is fucking hot, baby.. Jim... Sir... yes, it's coming back to me...

I look up at you, feeling delirious. Two minutes left? I swirl my tongue over the head of your cock, and take you deeply into my mouth.

 

_I’ll let you sweat for a bit longer... I remain looking impassive, with admirable restraint, until four and a half minutes, then grab your hair and fuck your mouth hard._

_My orgasm, when it comes, is the first one since I’ve been back that is - nice enough, but not spectacular. I’m too preoccupied._

 

Huh… something’s not right?? You seem to be way less into it than usual... Sebastian of the past would be freaking the fuck out right now. Sebastian now... is managing to keep from completely panicking, but what else would he do?

I pull away and look up at you in confusion. “I’m sorry, Sir - was that not... good?”

 

 

_“It was good,” I say. Damn - don’t want to get you worried, that’s going to be counterproductive._

_Should I talk with you? Should I keep it up? Yes, keep going Jim - he’s upset, he’s not himself, he’s gone through a massive massive thing today - it’ll take time. But he wants you to overwhelm him and overwhelm him you shall._

_“You’re a great cocksucker and you know it, Tiger... now I’ll want to take a breather before we continue. Get me a drink.”_

_I flop into one of the lounge chairs - the one with fewest bullet holes. Whose idea was it to give you a gun?_

 

 

I look at you from where I'm kneeling on the sand. "Um... Sir? I'm kind of missing the use of my hands..." I lift my arms from behind my back.

 

 

_“I said get me a drink, not complain about your life,” I say._

 

 

Jesus... shades of Jim past... seriously??

"Oh, you know what? I'll get your drink later. I need a breather, too..." I say, and sit back in the sand. "Beautiful view isn't it, Sir?"

 

 

_Oh for fuck’s sake. So that’s not right either? No pain, no challenge - you’re being difficult today Tiger._

_“Sebastian. I said get me a drink,” I say in a low voice._

 

 

"My. Pleasure. Sir." I stand, and walk over to the cool box… grab a bottle of something, walk over to you, and drop it in the sand. Then I lower myself in a patio chair, and look out at the sea.

Something is driving me so hard to resist, and I'm not sure what... all the rules seem to have changed... are you going to put a stop to it? I sneak a look at you, and then look back to the sea.

 

 

_Alright. More pressure then. As you wish, my love._

_I get up, shoot out my hand around your neck, put my knee on the inside of your thigh, lean down on it. I put my mouth next to your ear, speak in a low growl._

_“You’re really determined to try to challenge the king, aren’t you? Don’t you remember what happens?” I increase the pressure on your neck, not quite cutting off the airflow, but making it harder to breathe._

_“I think you do remember... I think you want me to prove I’m still capable of overpowering you...”_

_I bite the side of your neck, sucking the skin between my teeth until I taste your blood. “Don’t worry, Sebastian... I’m still your dark lord...”_

_I kiss you, letting you taste the blood on my lips, then release the pressure somewhat, but keep my hand on your throat._

 

 

 _Oh...shit_ … I've woken something in you... _there he is_. I'm slowing my heart rate, as my breathing is slightly cut off by your hand. That growl... _fuck_... my eyes close, and I groan as I feel your teeth in my neck... _Dark lord_...

You kiss me, and my muscles grow weak. "Yes, Sir…" I whisper.

 

_“Much better...” I growl. “Now... you know you’ll need to be punished for that insubordination, don’t you, my love?”_

 

 

"Yes- I had an inkling, Sir..." I breathe, and feel a tremble of excitement moving through me.

 

_I lean down to the bag, get our knife out. “You’ve ruined the chairs anyway, so we don’t need to worry about a few blood stains...”_

_I slide the knife over your face, your neck, watching your body get very still as I get near those precious veins._

_“Anyone else would have died if they resisted me like that, you know that... you know you’re special to me - but that doesn’t mean you can get away with that kind of behaviour, my love. Don’t make a habit of it - I’d hate to have to *_ _damage*_ _you...”_

_I increase the pressure on the knife, but hold it flat, so it’s not cutting the skin._

 

My eyes are on the knife. Then on you, as you slide it over my skin. I close my eyes, sighing breathily as I feel the cool metal sliding over me.

"We are who we are... I understand that, Sir..."

 

 

_“Do you really? You seemed to have forgotten... Now, I have an idea. Let’s play a little game. You love games, don’t you?_

_Oh no, that was me. Anyway._

_I’m going to ask you a question. You give me the answer. If you get it wrong, I reopen one of your scars. You should be able to win this game, you have so many...”_

 

 

I open my eyes at the word _game_ … I suspect this is not a game I can win... "I would be happy for you to play with me, Sir..." I watch you closely.

 

_“Of course you are, my love... I wasn’t asking... So, the question is... what do I want to hear?”_

 

 

"Please..." I say, immediately.

 

 

_“Always a good one, but not what I want to hear now... Now let’s have a look... oh, I love that one, don’t you?” I hover over the scar on your breastbone from our first night. The same knife, the same place, such different men..._

_I cut, carefully, following the scar, watching in fascination as the blood wells up. Of course I lean down and kiss it, how could I not?_

_Sitting back up, grinning at you with bloody lips. “Try again...”_

 

 

I suck in my breath. The kiss of your knife.... I haven't felt it in so long, tears spring to my eyes. Didn't expect _that_ to be my reaction... but I never thought I'd feel your knife again... You're smiling at me with my blood on your lips, looking every inch a dark lord... I smile through my tears. "You want to hear me crying..." I whisper.

 

_I seem to have got it right... or seem to have got you to the point where you are in the right space. Thank fuck for that. I’m not used to having to *_ _work*_ _for surrender... “So absolutely lovely, but I’ll hear that anyway, my gorgeous love,” I smile, as I kiss your tears, leaving little red kiss marks on your cheeks._

 

 

Your kisses, your close proximity... I feel overcome by your presence. So masterful, my dark angel...

“You want - to hear me beg...” I sigh, eyes closing.

 

 

_“Two more, my darling....” I choose two scars close together, one from me and one from some idiot before me who is dead now, as is proper - no one touches Sebastian but me._

_I gently cut the skin, watching you sink into submission, watching the blood trickle down your chest._

 

 

Your pain is sweet... I breathe in sharply both times... it’s like you’re opening up a world little by little, a world that’s just for you and me... darkness... pleasure... slowly succumbing to your gleaming eyes...

 

 

_“Time for your next guess, my love...” I remind you. It’s good that you’re getting where I want you to be, but there is an interactive element to this game._

 

 

My eyes come back into focus. “Sorry,” I murmur. “You want to hear me cry out and scream for you...” I blink and look at you.

I don’t think that’s it...

 

“ _I will anyway, don’t worry, love of my life. The day is still young...” A scar on your shoulder now, from a bullet. The skin here is harder, more difficult to pierce. Such a convenient place - I lick up the blood._

_“Your blood tastes so incredibly good, Seb. It must be all the alcohol you drink. It’s smoky and deep and complex like a fine wine...”_

 

 

I look at you through half-closed eyes. “You always loved my blood, Sir - from the very first time... drink as much as you like...” I laugh softly as I feel your lips on my skin.

 

 

_“Hmmm, I will... I might get drunk, after all the whiskey you knocked back earlier... So, have you worked it out yet? I told you the answer... but did you listen?”_

_I kiss your neck, sucking and biting... feeling my desire for you flare up again. You’re so fucking hot like this..._

 

I think and shake my head, smiling faintly. “I must have had my head up my own arse, Sir... I don’t recall hearing a blessed thing...” I look at you, feeling deliciously delirious. “You want to hear... whatever you want to hear in the moment. Is that right, Sir?”

 

 

_“I do have a specific thing in mind, my dear...” I look at you critically. You’re still with me right? With all the whiskey, and the emotions... don’t want you fainting on me._

_I choose one on your arm - again not mine, some cunt with a knife thought he could get you off his friend by stabbing you. He was wrong._

_“Are you trying? Or are you enjoying this too much? Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the punishment that’s due - if you win the game it’s not the end of the pain...”_

 

 

"I _am_ trying... and I'm enjoying it..." I say, my eyes closing again. "I honestly have no fucking clue... and I already know I'll be punished no matter what, Sir... because I have it coming, don't I..." I open my eyes and gaze at you steadily.

 

“ _You do, my beloved husband... I’ll remind you that you swore to love, honour, and *_ _obey*_ _. And you know how I deal with disobedience... not very well.”_

_I kiss you, biting your lip._

_“Now, what I want to hear are specific words. Try to find the right words to win the game... before you run out of scars and I’ll have to make new ones...”_

 

 

I chuckle as I try to think. "I knew that vow would bite me in the arse," I mutter. What did you say you wanted to hear? The beauty of your own fucking voice? _Don't_ say that... he may have said you could speak, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear - wait, wait WAIT…

"My thoughts- you want to hear my thoughts," I sigh, my head falling back. Impending punishment or not, I had no idea how tense I was starting to feel. Now what??

 

 

 _“Bite you in the arse? Au contraire, my dear... You *_ _want*_ _to obey, don’t you? You want me to be in charge... to own you.”_

_I stroke your shoulders, your cheek. “You’re tense, my love... just relax. It’s all in my hands now. Just let yourself go into my control, and you’ll feel so much better. Can you relax for me? Cry, if you want to...”_

_“And yes, I do want to hear your thoughts. It’s not what I had in mind, so you haven’t won our little game yet, but I do want to hear how you are doing, how you are feeling...”_

_Damn it._

_“It’s - let’s just have a time out. I feel like I’m not getting it right, not reading you right... and I need this to be what you need. So - let’s take five and just... talk.”_

_I feel like I’m carrying a burden and asking you to help me carry - and it feels like a failing. I used to be able to read you perfectly - didn’t I?_

 

 

I feel apprehension rise up in me. Have I disappointed you? I know I've changed, and my responses are different, but I was just doing what came naturally... Does this make you... sad??

 _Shit_. Guilt, sadness, confusion come pouring through me... how do I keep ending up here??

"OK... I guess I've changed- more than I realized... so I guess I'm responding differently... but I thought that was good, to respond with what I'm feeling. And now you seem _sad_ …"

Suddenly I want to cry. "Jim, are you sad about that??"

 

_“No! No my love I’m not sad -“ then why are there tears coming into my eyes? “I’m just afraid I’m not doing it right, because you are responding so differently - I’m afraid I’m not treating you the right way, not giving you what you need right now... I used to be so confident that I knew what you need and now I’m just... unsure. When you resist - I’m not sure if you need me to crack down or change tactics. Like at the start - you were being rebellious so I thought you wanted me to be harsh, but then you seemed to have trouble dealing with the pain... And just now you seemed fine, with our game, but then I saw how tense you are..._

_Fuck, Seb, I just want to give you what you need, and I can’t seem to get it right...”_

_Yup, definitely tears. Oh great, you big bad dominant sadist. Very impressive._

_Well *_ _fuck*_ _impressive. This is Seb. I trust him - I need to be perfect for him._

 

 

I want to throw myself on my knees, but you're still on my lap. "Jim... baby... please don't be sad. _Shit_ … I didn't mean to say that, sorry. And do you not like 'baby'? I can stop saying it if you want, I just really liked using terms of endearment with you, and it stuck, and... I could call you something else," I sigh.

"Fuck. Maybe we should have talked first?? I didn't know this would be hard to figure out...

So... I guess I feel more rebellious than I used to. I was on my own for a year, and only didn't kill myself in the end because - I was angry at you, and decided to live life for myself. And then you came back, and we had the most amazing few days, and I was just being _me_ with you for the first time... and it felt good to just be me, and not what I thought you wanted me to be. And I _do_ want to submit to you, I _do_ … nothing would be hotter, nothing would make me feel more loved and protected. But I guess, if I'm going to be honest... I enjoyed pushing back! I always wanted to, you know... it's what I always felt, deep down. But back then I thought you'd kill me, so it didn't seem like the best idea..." I smile wryly. "You wanted to a little today, didn't you..."

 

 

_“Well - no. I mean - it’s confusing for me, and that’s frustrating, but mostly I’m just so afraid to do it wrong, to hurt you. Today has been so hard for you, and I wanted to be perfect for you, like you were for me yesterday, and... I just didn’t know if I was._

_I guess I am not used to people pushing back - well, can you imagine *_ _anyone*_ _trying that before?! So - to me it seems like you’re saying ‘no, I don’t want this’. But then I thought wait - he’d say if he didn’t want it so he’s probably just trying to get me to push harder myself - but... I don’t know. I’m just not used to it and I don’t know what to do._

 _And you’re right - maybe we should have talked before, but you *_ _also*_ _made it more than clear that you *_ _hate*_ _talking so I didn’t want to ask you to do more of it today!_

 _And I’m *_ _fine*_ _with you calling me baby when you’re being sweet but not when I’m in charge._

_And fuck, Seb, I just don’t know and I’m not being what you need and I’m sorry...”_

 

 

"OK... so you don't need to worry about hurting me, because I'll tell you if it's too much. Just like you would have yesterday..." I look at you intently. "And, as for pushing back... I don't know what to say, except... I like it. I feel like I need it. I love being able to do it with you... Can you imagine what a big deal that is to me, after keeping it in for four years? I just hope that's going to be OK for you? I would have warned you if I knew it was coming, it just... took me by surprise. I guess I like how it feels to have you put me in my place... " I press my forehead to yours. "Are you going to be ok with that, Jim? It was really fucking hot..."

 

 

 _“So... you did enjoy it? All of it? It’s just.. I thought you wanted me to put you in your place but then... I started doubting when I thought I *_ _had*_ _you where I wanted you and then you started pushing back *_ _again*_ _, and I got confused.”_

 

 

"I'm sorry, I feel so chaotic after... everything that happened. I don't feel entirely myself, I don't even know if I've even fully become myself yet, if that makes sense? It feels pretty fucking weird. So I don't exactly remember what I did when...but I did enjoy it. Especially everything after you had me by the throat... it was really fucking good. But what about you? Are _you_ going to be ok with me pushing back??" I look at you, worried.

 

 

_“I... don’t know. It confuses me because I’ve never encountered it before. So mostly I felt bewildered - not sure what you were trying to achieve by it. What *were* you trying to achieve by it?”_

 

 

"It's kind of hard to explain, but it's like... I feel two ways at once. I feel like I want to be dominated, overpowered, I want to be under your power so much, I want to be owned by you... I want to completely surrender to you. But then there's another part of me that's... rebellious, and resisting it. The part of me that doesn't want _anyone_ telling me what to do. And basically, between my family, the army and you, people have been telling me what to do, one way or another, my entire life. And that part of me is pissed off, resentful, and doesn't want to submit. And all I know is, I really want both parts of me there... I don't know if the rebellious part can shut up, after being stuffed in a closet for most of my life. So sometimes, maybe it would pop up again, even after you put me in my place? Would that be a problem??"

 

_“Sebastian. Nothing about you is a problem. It’s just something that we have to work out._

_Thing is... when I first... got you, I recognized the rebellion, because you had been rebelling all your life - against your parents, then the army... but what I saw was that need to be overpowered. So I did. And - I thought I was successful where others had failed - others had tried to tell you what to do, but they didn’t have my strength of will. And I saw the relief in you that you’d *_ _finally*_ _found someone more powerful than you. And - that’s where it ended for me. I had you where I wanted you, and I thought you were where you wanted to be. But it wasn’t that simple, apparently._

_But... that still doesn’t answer the question. What do you want to achieve when you’re being rebellious? Is it - something that pops up and you can’t help? Do you want to communicate something with it? Like - I’m not your doormat you bloody sadist? Or - what?”_

 

 

"Achieve? I don't have a fucking clue. It feels good. Maybe I'm trying to communicate something?? I don't know - I'd have to think about that. But how is it any different than when I used to give you lip? You wouldn't have taken that from anyone, but you were ok with it coming from me - and if it went too far, I found out pretty fucking quickly. It's like - it's this tension that feels really good, like walking a line, going too far, dealing with the consequences... it's kind of self-destructive. But.... that's me, Jim. Is it really that shocking? I can try to tone it down..."

 

 

 _“No - stop it Seb, I’m trying to *_ _understand*_ _, not challenge._

_So - you used to give me lip because it amused you. So does this amuse you?_

_And when you say tension, self-destructive... so - is it asking me to crack down, in a way? Like - challenge me to prove that I’m in charge and *_ _can*_ _overcome your rebellion? Rather than you just doing what I say which proves your obedience but not my strength?”_

 

 

I sigh. "I'm trying, OK... but I feel your frustration, and it's hard; it feels like I'm doing something wrong and disappointing you. I don't know if _amuse_ is the right word, but yeah, it's a similar feeling.

It's fun - especially when you crack down. Exactly like you did towards the end. Pain is part of it, but it's your power I want to feel. Because it's so fucking intoxicating. Before I know you only had to do it once... and I was yours. I'm still yours - but I just want to feel it again and again... _yes_ , show me you're in charge, I know it, but I want to _feel_ it, it's exciting, it's hot, I want more... is this making any sense?"

 

 

_“Yes, finally. That’s what I didn’t get - because you were being so bratty at the start and then I came down on you hard, but that wasn’t quite what you were after - you weren’t asking for more pain, but for a more personal touch?”_

 

 

I sigh with relief. "Yes... which you gave me later, and it was fucking amazing. So my question is... are _you_ going to be ok with that? I don't mean it as some kind of undermining of your authority, and I'm sorry if that's how it felt. I just like to feel it - in my face. _Fuck_ , do I want to feel it..."

 

 

_Thank fuck, we’re getting somewhere._

_“I’m ok with it, as long as I know what’s going on. To me it seemed like you were saying ‘Fuck off Jim, I don’t like this’, and that was what confused me, because I also got the feeling that you *_ _did*_ _want it; but then if you wanted it why were you fighting it?_

_So - yes, that helps._

_As for me... I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. I’ve never had to deal with it before, so I can’t really say if I enjoy it or not. We’ll have to see.”_

_Also, today is about you, my love. I’ll do anything to make you feel better after your ordeal. I’ll think about whether I like it some other time._

"OK... I'm glad it helps." I feel relieved and somewhat dejected.

I finally express something I've been hiding forever, and you don't know if you'll like it... I automatically go to a place of 'Oh, I guess we're not going to be able to make it then... That's fucking perfect.'

Normally I would hide that feeling, but am I supposed to express everything to you, even if it makes things complicated? I think I am?

 

 

_“Ok, it seems important to you, I can see that, and I can see you’re disappointed that I’m not immediately saying that I love it, but - you want me to be honest as well, don’t you? And I honestly can’t say if I’ll enjoy it, because I’ve never ever dealt with the situation until just now, when it confused me._

_OK, I’ll explain what seems potentially problematic to me - two things spring to mind: first, it’s manipulating me to do what you want rather than what I want. Second, it’s putting a lot of pressure on me to come up with the right way to crack down - I’ll have to find the balance between being too harsh and not harsh enough.”_

_I thought we weren’t going to make things difficult for him today? Well - he asked for it. I’m trying to be accommodating here but fuck’s sake... you can’t expect me to read your mind Tiger._

 

 

I think about this. "Well, I didn't need it when you were whipping me a couple of days ago. Maybe I just need it once in a while... anyway, yes, I want you to be honest. I'm sorry I've made things complicated, this is new for me, too - I didn't expect it. If we're being honest, part of me is afraid we won't be able to find a compromise, and I've somehow ruined the best thing I ever had, by feeling something, and wanting something. And the other part of me is reminding myself that long-term relationships are supposed to be fucking hard sometimes, aren't they? So is this just something we're supposed to work through and figure out together? Otherwise, just put a pillow over my face tonight. I don't have it in me for things to not work between us. _I really don't_..."

I feel a lump in my throat, and I wish I was back in bed like this morning, with my head covered and not dealing with anything. "Please don't give up on me," I whisper.

 

_Oh god Sebastian - I put my arms around you, kiss your face - “Sebastian - Sebbie - never. I’ll never give up on you - what makes you think that?! Just because you’ve done something *_ _one time*_ _that I *_ _may or may not*_ _dislike?! What the fuck?! Even before, you did things I disliked and I never left you, did I?_

 _We’ll just have to get better at communicating - it’s not like we ever tried before. But - Sebastian, you’re my *_ _husband*_ _. I take that seriously. I promised to always love and honour you and I’m not breaking that promise._

_There will be things we won’t agree on - we’ll have to work them out. Worst case scenario we’ll compromise. Yes, I can compromise, don’t look like that. I may be in charge - but I want you to be happy, and I’ll never force you to suppress your feelings just because they’re difficult._

_Sebastian... please don’t think I would ever abandon you, over anything.”_

 

I sigh with relief and press my face against yours. "I'm really glad to hear you say that, baby..." I murmur.

"I only thought that because this was always central to our relationship and I... don't want anything to come between us. Including if I've changed. And I take our commitment as seriously as my own life... I just hate the thought of you being unhappy or unsatisfied because of me. But if you think we can figure it out, then - I'm relieved and I'm happy."

I stare into your eyes. "I love you.... and you _are_ in charge... I wouldn't want it any other way. Jim... I'm fucking yours, and I always will be."

 

_I can’t help but laugh at that - “You’ve just won the game...”_

 

 

I blink. "What? You're in charge? I'm yours?"

 

 

_“You’re mine. That’s what I wanted to hear.”_

 

 

" _Oh_ ," I breathe. "Of course I am... I'm yours, I'm yours..." I whisper against your ear. "So do with me what you like. I'm ready, I promise... I won't fight you, because I don't want to... what do you want to do with me now?" I gaze into your eyes.

 

 

_“Everything... I want to hold you and cuddle you until there’s no doubt in your mind that I love you forever. I want to fuck you to within an inch of your life. I want to hear you scream my name in pain. I want to talk to you for hours and find out everything about you I never cared or never dared to ask._

_I will probably do all of those but not in that order._

_I’d... like to start by making you scream... because you *_ _have*_ _been asking for it, and it’s the fucking hottest thing in the world...”_

_I look at you intently, trying to gauge your response to my words._

 

 

I sigh reverently, looking into your eyes. "Yes... I fucking want that, and I _have_ been asking for it... make me scream... please... Sir..."

 

 

 _OK now that look I recognize... and *_ _adore*_ _. I’m sure I can live with the occasional rebellion - I mean, I like bad boy Seb - as long as this is what I get in the end. It may even feel better if I have to work for it..._

_So..._

_“So you’ve won the game - I told you it wasn’t hard. But... “ I grab your hair and pull your head back, bite your neck hard, talk in your ear in a low voice, “I still owe you a punishment for your behaviour earlier... if I tell you to do something, you do it, straightaway, exactly as I tell you. You seem to have forgotten that really very simple rule. So I’ll have to make sure you’ll remember in the future...”_

 

 

The darkness in your voice sends a wave of ecstasy shooting through me. Having my head yanked back by you, my neck exposed and bitten, feels like an electrical system shorting out, with sparks flying everywhere. My muscles go weak... I struggle to focus on what you're saying, and if I'm supposed to reply... "Yes... Sir..." I gasp. I sag against the chair, and my heart begins to pound.

 

_God, you’re gorgeous like this. It’s a good thing you sucked me off earlier so I can resist the urge to take you right here right now..._

_“Now, I believe you complained your hands were the problem?”_

_I reach behind you, take the key from my pocket, undo one cuff, pull your hands in front of you. Kiss your palm, flick it gently with my tongue, lick your index finger, put it in my mouth, licking around it, reminding you of the pleasures my mouth can bring... and the pain, as I bite down. Not too hard - your fingers are precious - but hard enough for sensitive digits._

_I do the same for your other hand, then cuff them together again._

_“If your hands were the problem, your hands will have to bear the punishment, won’t they?”_

_I get off your lap, pick up the cane again._

_“Hold out your hands for me...”_

 

I watch you closely... My mad genius, my dark angel... I can't even begin to imagine all the things you'll do to me on our honeymoon, with that cruel, clever mind...

When you start licking my fingers, my eyes half close and I feel myself start to get hard... when you bite down, my head falls back... _Fuck_... I'm already about to slide off the chair, and you've barely started... your voice slides over my skin, making me shiver... I hold out my hands...

 

_My marvellous Tiger. I may get into your rebellious side - now I know your thoughts about it - but I *_ _definitely*_ _love your obedience. Seeing you offering your hands up to me to receive my pain - god, it’s hot._

_And the way you look now - half hard, your eyes dark - I love you so much it hurts._

_I aim the cane - essential not to hit your fingers - and lash it down on the palms of both your hands. Not too hard, I don’t want to incapacitate you, but hard enough to really hurt._

 

The cane comes down - there's blinding pain, and I cry out. My eyes squeeze shut, stinging with tears. Maybe I could have held it in, but I don't want to... I don't want to, Jim... right now I'm tired, I'm so tired of all the sadness and anger and trauma from these past two days, and I just want to rest in you... find sweet sanctuary in you... melt into your power and strength... I open my eyes and they're captured by yours, and I find myself drowning in the depths of their gleaming darkness... fuck... _Jim_...

 

 

_That cry - that’s perfect. Not a cry of distress or upset, but a cry of - just pain, and surrender into it._

_You open your eyes and there’s - *_ _something*_ _\- and I can’t tear my gaze away; I see the depths of your soul in that stare, it’s like electricity crackles in the air between us - love. Lust. Pain. Adoration. Power._

_You and me. There is nothing else._

_I keep looking into your eyes, only tear my gaze away at the last moment, to aim the second lash. It overlaps the first._

 

 

I cry out again, my head flying back, my eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck," I mutter. "Oh, holy fuck..." I'm breathing harder. When I open my eyes, they're wet - and they lock right back onto yours.

 

_I can hardly keep myself from jumping at you to kiss you and save you from the hurt - while simultaneously wanting to give you more pain._

_I look into your wide eyes, panting myself._

_Cuddles and kisses will come - just a bit more pain. You’ve earned it._

_Again I raise the cane and slash it down, in the same place again. That will do - it must hurt immensely by now and I don’t want to limit the use of your hands._

 

 

The cry is torn from me, and a long, shuddering sigh follows. Tears are spilling down my cheeks now.

"Oh..." I breathe. " _Jim_... sorry... Sir..."

 

_“Move your hands back,” I say. As you do so, I lash the cane down on your thighs._

_“Don’t forget the proper address, Tiger...”_

 

 

I suck in my breath. "Sorry - Sir-" I breathe. The pain is beginning to envelop me, a net of stinging, throbbing sensation. I'm caught in it, suspended... helpless... yours...

 

 

_You’re getting there - I could just keep lashing you and then fuck you - but no. My authority was challenged and I will not stand for it._

_I sit down on your lap again, making sure to rub over the lash I just put on your thighs. I take your hands, inspect them - looking good. An angry weal but the skin isn’t broken._

_I unlock one cuff again, kiss the weal gently, tenderly, then lick it, do the same with the other hand; then lock your hands behind your back again._

_I look into your eyes, wet with tears, kiss you longingly and lustfully, then push my hand around your neck again._

_“Now, in the future when I tell you to get me a drink, you reply...?”_

 

 

I sigh when you're on my lap... I love you being on my lap...

I wince when you rub against the fresh lash, but then float into euphoria when you begin to kiss and lick my hands. And then I'm even more helpless, my hands locked behind me.... your eyes pinioning mine... your hand circling my neck... My eyelids flutter shut, enraptured, and I laugh softly. "As you wish, Sir..."

 

 

_“See? It’s not that hard...”_

_I kiss your lips, get off your lap, and sit down in the other chair._

_“Mine’s a rum and coke.”_

 

 

You win, Jim... obviously I won't be pulling that shit again, and I better get you your damn drink. I raise an eyebrow, smile, and get up and walk to the cool box. I proceed to pour the required liquids into a glass, while eyeing you with open lust.

Managing not to spill anything all over my naked body, I carry it over to you. Looking down at you with a glint in my eye, I say, "One rum and coke, Sir." And then I turn and wait for you to take the glass.

 

 

_“Thank you, my dear. Not having one yourself?” I quip hilariously when taking the glass._

_“Turn around. Kneel.”_

_So much better if you just do as you’re told... and fuck me if there’s any sight hotter than you on your knees looking at me with hunger._

_I savour the sight as I savour my drink._

 

 

I haven't felt this way in so long, but this could not be more familiar to me... to be naked and bound before you, eyeing you with longing and lust, while you take your sweet time deciding what to do with me... oh god, you _are_ going to fuck me, aren't you? You wouldn't be so cruel??... You _would_ be so cruel... my spirits plummet. But then... you _promised_... today, whatever I wanted...

I look down at the sand, grinning.

 

 

_I can read your thoughts as if you were speaking them out loud. Oh don’t worry my dear, there’s only so long I can resist the siren’s lure of your sweet sweet arse._

_I take another sip of my drink, wondering whether I should fuck you or toy with you some more... it might be good to get you further under; it was quite healing for me yesterday..._

_I get up, snap my fingers, and walk to a palm tree._

 

 

I smile wryly. You are never quite more _Jim_ than when you're dominating me... playing with me... inflicting your pain on me... _fuck_ , you turn me on... you goddamn force of nature...

I stand, and follow you to the palm tree.

 

 

_I grab you and shove you against the tree, kissing you hard and hungry, rubbing my body against yours, grasping your wealed arse, groaning softly._

 

 

I'm kissing you back so hungrily, desperately, _god_ , it feels so hot to be fucking _manhandled_ by you... _fuck_ , baby... Sir.. _more_... _please, more..._

 

 

_I let go, look into your eyes - sparks fly again - then turn you around, press you against the tree, undo your cuffs and fasten them around the tree._

_I take a step back, assess your state - your back should be left to heal, but the rest can take some rekindling of the fire._

_I get the cat out of the bag. That should be painful enough on your wealed arse and your thighs, but not actually break the skin._

_I lash it down, not too hard, but in quick succession, quickly reddening the skin._

 

 

And here we are, handcuffed to a palm tree again... I look up cautiously. I hope none of the bullets I fired earlier loosened any coconuts, because I don't fancy a concussion as one of my injuries... or worse. But then, the potential of death by coconut is the last thing on my mind as I hear a familiar sound, and suddenly... the stinging tails of the cat are setting my skin ablaze, and I'm pressing against the rough bark of the tree, gasping....

 

 

_I’m not taking my time - you’re not getting a moment to catch your breath; I want to watch you writhe. I lash my way down your arse, over your thighs, back up again, and do another round, until you’re a nice even red._

 

 

I'm panting and moaning as I press into the tree... "Oh god..." I breathe. "oh Christ..." I choke back a sob.

 

 

_That’s where I wanted you; and there’s no way I can wait longer - I drop the cat, grab the lube, squirt some on my finger, shove it inside you as I grab your hair, bite your neck, push my body onto yours, growling._

 

 

I suck in my breath when I feel your welcome assault on my body... your finger claiming your territory, your hand and teeth pushing me further into submission... your growl has me moaning, as your body presses against me. "God... _Sir_..." I plead, my body tense and surging with desire...

 

 

_“Tell me what you want Sebastian. Beg for it.”_

_Another finger joins the first._

 

 

I shake my head. "I want - oh, please - fuck me... fuck me so hard... please, Sir..." I moan, panting.

 

 

_Yes, god, yes..._

_I slick some lube over my cock and push into you... not too fast, careful Jim.., god Sebastian I love you..._

_I bite your shoulder, dig my fingers into the weals on your arse - “Mine.” I growl._

 

All it takes is you pushing into me...biting my shoulder... digging your fingers into my raw skin... and _growling_ that I belong to you... and I'm _keening_ at every touch... moaning with every thrust of your cock into me...

"Please..." I beg, scraping against the tree bark. "oh fuck... please..."

 

 

_You need it hard and rough and I’m only too eager to oblige. I’m incredibly turned on after all we’ve done before and I just want to take you, own you. My fingers dig into your skin, nails scratching, teeth biting, I’m a ferocious animal devouring my prey._

_“You’re mine Sebastian. You’re fucking amazing. There’s nothing I can’t do with you by my side... conquer the fucking world... I love you, I love hurting you, I love fucking you, I love owning you... Fuck... Sebastian....”_

 

 

Tears are streaming down my face...

"Yes, you fucking own me..." I moan, swept away in rapture. "Hurt me... please... Do anything you want to me...I'm yours... _yours..._ fuck...oh... FUCK..."

I'm slammed back into my body as the pace increases, the roughness intensifies, you're pounding into me against the tree, and I'm back to keening. " _Yes_ , fuck me so hard, fuck me into _oblivion_... Jim..." I start to sob, my face pressed into the bark.

"Oh God.. _JIM_..." I cry out, screaming your name into the sky, like a tear-soaked prayer to belong to you always... always yours... always...

 

_Well, I said you’d cry out my name in pain - you sighed it in pain, now cry it out in ecstasy - close enough._

_Speaking of close - I’m getting there... I’m feeling shudders of pleasure getting closer and closer._

_I’m thinking of ordering you to come - it’s incredibly hot having you come just from my cock - but I want this to be more special for you._

_“I’m nearly there Tiger... don’t come yet... just feel me, feel my pleasure... feel me coming inside you again... You’re so fucking hot and I fucking love you... Tiger...”_

_This second orgasm is so much better than the first. I’m feeling much more confident in what I’m doing. And... you are completely enraptured and just so fucking hot and mine and god... Sebastian..._

_*Sebastian*_ _...._

_“Fuck... You’re fucking amazing...” is all I can pant - the waves of pleasure concentrate and pour through my cock in blissful spasms. I groan, dig my fingers deep into your hips, cry out as I shudder against you._

 

 

 _Yes_ , claim me with your cock, come in my arse, oh _fuck_ , you're so hot, tell me when I can and can't come... I'm delirious and weeping, as you convulse and pour your shuddering orgasm into me.

You lean against me, breathing hard, and I press against you, panting.

When you pull out, I let out a sob at the loss of you.  
My body is throbbing with pain...

My cock is pressed painfully hard against the palm tree...

My face is wet and stinging with tears...

"Please..." I whisper, bow my head and wait for the release only you can bring me...

 

 

_My knees are weak, but I manage to fumble the key from the shorts around my ankles and untie you.  
I press you down into the hot sand again (I like this new trick), making you hiss, and dive onto your cock, giving it the full joy my mouth can bring. _

_You need release, so I’m going straight for the strong rhythm, enjoying feeling you squirm and hearing the sounds you make. My Tiger... come inside my mouth, give me your relief..._

 

 

Hot sand again on my stinging skin.... well, I did give you me to do with as you like... but then your mouth is on my cock, throwing all other sensations aside. _Oh god_... no one can blow me like you... no one... (and nor should they if they want to keep their foolish heads...)

You feel so good, and I'm trying to keep from coming too soon, but I need it, I need it, and I _can't_ hold back... I'm moaning loudly, driving myself into your mouth - you didn't give me permission, but I guess I'll find out later if I'm being punished for that... and you're not stopping me anyway, there's a low rumble of approval in your throat, and you look at me with gleaming eyes, and it's this that pushes me over the edge... _dark angel, dark lord_... oh fuck, oh fuck... I'm shivering, shuddering against you, groaning like I've been mortally wounded, gasping for breath... then I'm convulsing as I pour into your mouth long and hard, oh my dark lord, oh fuck, oh god, Jim... tears are leaking from my closed eyes... I'm murmuring your name... I'm yours... yours... yours... and it feels like a leash whips around my neck and snaps into place. My eyes fly open, and my fingers press against my neck. I look at you leaning over me with a dark smile and glittering eyes, and I laugh low in my throat.

"It's _fucking_ good to be back, Sir," I breathe, and pull you down into a kiss.

 

 

_You’re moaning like you’re being torn apart, and it’s beautiful; you’re looking at me like a man who’s about to drop off a ledge, and then you do - your orgasm is a thing of beauty; your body spasming, your groans otherworldly, your lungs trying to capture breath that appears to be evading you, and your seed spouting into my throat._

_You’re whispering my name, and ‘yours’ - so perfect... my love, my property, my husband..._

_Your hands grasp your neck, and you look startled - then you stare at me with such delight and devotion it makes my heart leap._

_“It’s fucking great to have you back Tiger...” I grin when you let me get up for air._

_“And - for now, it’s Jim again. You’ve gone through a lot today, and I want to keep an eye on how you’re feeling - and I need you to be fully free for that.”_

_I stroke your hair, kiss the tears drying on your face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Animal - Chase Holfelder  
> For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert  
> Flesh - Simon Curtis  
> Hold Me Down - Halsey


	7. The Devil Was Impossible to Resist

Lying on the sand, having just come in your mouth, being stroked by you... is bliss unlike anything I expected to feel today. Parts of my body are very sore...and all of me is lazy, content and exhausted. "I'm feeling OK... more than OK... but I have no idea how I'm ever going to get up," I say in a drowsy voice. "I may have to spend the rest of our honeymoon here. You can put a tent over me to keep the rain off - do you think you can manage putting up a tent, babe?" I laugh, and kiss you again. Then I pull you down onto me, and wrap my arms around you. "Don't worry... if we're ever in a post-apocalyptic scenario, I've got you covered." I kiss your hair, then look up at the sky. "Actually, it does look like rain today. If you want to interrogate me or work me over some more, it'll have to be indoors." I wink at you, and don't make a move to get up.

 

_“You are getting up and get rained on, in the shower. You’ve been rubbing your open wounds against that palm tree and I don’t know where it’s been. I’ll need to treat those wounds - don’t want you getting infected...”_

_I say all this, but I’m not moving either... it’s just too blissful to lie on top of you in the sunlight, the cries of gulls and the rustle of the leaves, the rolling waves... the gentle breeze..._

_And something else. Your heartbeat - your breath - the way your muscles feel –_

_You are different. There’s something not there that used to be. You seem - more relaxed. Truly unburdened._

_I’m so happy I managed to do this I could cry - and with my newfound freedom, I do. I’m going to have to remember that I should only do this when I’m alone with you, when we get back into the world..._

 

 

I'm blissing out lying with your weight on me, and then - "Are you crying?" I touch your cheek, and my hands come away wet. "Aww, babe.. why are you crying?"

 

****

_“I’m fine - just - you seem lighter. You were always carrying this grief and it’s still there of course, but - you’re less tense and seem - more open. And I’m grateful for that._

_So... do you think you’ll be able to let yourself be happy eventually?”_

 

"Already with the big questions! You have an interesting take on afterglow," I nudge you.

"Happy, huh? There's an interesting thought... I've been feeling moments of being happy - lots of moments. But they tended to be accompanied by panic, dread and terror - that I was inviting disaster by letting down my guard. I don't think you forget that overnight?" I ponder, screwing up my face. "So I don't know... this is pretty new to me. But I could ask you the same thing... so I will. Are _you_ going to let yourself be happy, Jim?"

 

 

_“Today is about you,” I try, but you’re not buying that for one moment, from the look on your face. I sigh._

_“Will I let myself be happy? I’m not sure – which one is happy? Am I happy now? I guess?_

_... yes ... There’s... worry - about you, mostly - and there’s ... some pain, frustration.... but it’s background stuff. In the foreground, there’s - love. Infatuation. Pride. Yes, I guess I’m happy, mostly.”_

 

 

"That's something... it's only been a few days of wedded bliss, and one day since... you unburdened yourself. And I'm so glad you did... and forced me to... things feel different, now. I'm not sure what that means yet. I feel happy now... and sore as hell, you brute." I twist to the side so you roll off me and spill onto the sand.

"Oh, no. I'm so sorry..."

 

 

_“Sorry for dropping me or calling me names?” I stretch, get up reluctantly._

_“Come on, I have to clean you up.”_

_I put out my hand and pull you up. God you look a mess. I’m used to doing this kind of thing in the relatively sterile environment of our apartment, where you don’t get exotic bark and sand in your wounds._

_Suddenly worry overcomes happiness and I pull you to the shower. Interesting how feelings can just change so quickly. Happiness is still there but it’s been superseded, so now I have a desire to remove the cause of worry, so I can feel happiness again. I finally see how people are so motivated by their emotions._

 

 

You are most insistent on getting me into the shower, and once I'm in you're fussing even more than usual. You were always careful, but this is something else - like you won't be able to rest until you're sure there's no risk of anything terrible happening. I can see where fear would come into play after everything we experienced... it's one thing to be here, but out there in the real world?

Oh god.

My heart slams in my chest. I'd completely forgotten about it, already... what's it going to be like _out there_ , especially if we're not together? _Fuck_. OK - fear turns into mind-numbing terror. I can't share this with you - not right now. But I do feel the need to hold you against me and never let you go. You pull back from my embrace, because you're still fussing like a goddamn mother hen. "Leave it," I snap, and yank you against me. I heave a sigh. I feel your hands on my shoulders like you're going to pull back; you demand to know what's wrong.

"Nothing... Everything! I don't want to leave here, Jim. We're great - it's the world that's fucking terrifying..."

 

 

_Your heartbeat suddenly goes haywire and you pull me against you, refusing to let go - and I panic - what’s wrong?! What have you thought of that I’ve forgotten, seen that I’ve missed?_

_You say you’re terrified of the world - funny; usually it’s the world who’s terrified of you._

_“It’s ok Tiger. This makes perfect sense - you’re awfully raw right now, emotionally as well as physically. And the same way that we’re not going to expose your body to anything dangerous and you’re going to let me take care of it; we should give your emotions time to heal and be taken care of. Unfortunately that’s also going to be me, sorry._

_Don’t worry - I feel the same; the idea of getting out of here - even of facing Señora Álvarez - fills me with dread._

_This is a bit of a weird honeymoon, but I think it’s doing us good. We won’t have to face anyone until we’re good and ready, but we will be, my love. Don’t worry. And if not - I’ll buy the fucking place and we’ll retire as hermits.”_

 

 

"Hermits. Perfect." I chuckle, despite my pounding heart. "How do you always know the right thing to say? You could be a therapist for hardened criminals... And if you don't help them, you could just hire them."

I press my head against your shoulder, as the water pours down on us. "Yes, it's a weird honeymoon, but we're both fucking mental, so that makes sense. Just so you know, I don't think I'll be ready to leave for a while yet... I like it here."

 

 

_“There’s absolutely no reason to. I finally know why I’ve been gathering all that money so diligently - it was to be able to have a honeymoon for as long as I or my husband fucking want. You’ll likely feel better soon and want to go out into the world - but if not, nothing is going to make you. Not even I._

_We could branch out – Moriarties: Consulting Criminals, Chamomile, and Counselling Services...”_

_You giggle and I’m relieved - it’s been really hard on you to talk, even harder than it was on me yesterday and I still feel kind of sore._

_I try to think of what your feel-good films are - and realize I have no idea. And that makes me feel - dejected? And guilty. Damn. That’s a hard one to get rid of._

 

I let you finish taking care of my wounds, and then we just hold each other in the water, breathing deeply. Apparently Moriarties’ Counselling Services involves tormented screaming; shooting coconuts and patio furniture; wading into the sea to talk to your dead, beloved first boyfriend; immediately being whipped, fucked, and sucked by your husband; having your wounds cared for in the shower; and just letting the water wash everything away... Well, it fucking works... I feel like I've left my old life behind. I know the wounds of the past won't completely recede - but right now, I don't care. I'm exhausted, and I want to sleep with my husband - there's that word again... I really struggled with it for the first few days. But every time I hear you speak it, my heart glows - why would I deny you the same pleasure?

It's not even dinner time yet- I don't know what we'll eat, or what we'll do this evening. I'm sure you'll have an idea or two, my clever husband...

I press my lips to yours and kiss you deeply.

 

_“You’re exhausted, aren’t you, my love? Let me treat your wounds, and let’s have a nap - it’s been an intense day...”_

_We get out of the shower and I towel you off very gently, then lead you upstairs. You look ready to collapse, but I entice you to just sit up a little bit longer while I clean and bandage your wounds - you complain that I fuss too much but I will not take risks with your precious hide..._

_And it does strike me - how are we ever going to go back to work? How am I going to send you out to do anything dangerous?! I’d panic every second. Does this get less? It seems to for others, but I cannot imagine ever being at ease with you even going down the road to the shops, let alone on a job._

_We haven’t spent more than twenty minutes apart since I got back, and that’s alright with me..._

_I can’t ask you because you haven’t had a normal love relationship before either. We’ll just have to wait and see... When your wounds are treated to my satisfaction, I take some balm and smooth it on the weals on your thighs and on your hands, then tell you to lie on your front, and start rubbing it into your back, working my way down your body, stroking and massaging as I’m going._

_You’re asleep before I get to your arse._

 

Your hands feel so good… but I feel blackness pulling on me, making my limbs heavy. Eventually I give up resisting and tumble forward into oblivion.

 

David and I are sitting on the beach, sharing rum from a bottle. We’re fifteen, huddled together.

“You didn’t talk about how much you loved me… I was kind of expecting that after so long...” He looks at me curiously, tucks his blond hair back behind his ear.

“Of course I love you,” I protest, and snatch the rum from you. ”Idiot… I never stopped.”

“Yeah, but… you love him more...” There’s no judgement there, just fascination.

I look back at the villa. “Yeah?” I say, helplessly. "Or, I will in a few years... how does that work, exactly?" I tip the bottle back, and fiery rum pours down my throat.

“Time isn’t linear - that’s how. It’s cool you love him, I get it…” he assures me. ”It took you long enough, actually. I was worried about you…”

“You were?” I ask, shocked.

“Well, yeah…” he laughs. He snatches the bottle back from me. “Don’t get me wrong… I love you too, and I _always will_. But I didn’t want your love for me to ruin your fucking life…” He drinks some rum, wipes his mouth.

“It didn’t!” I insist.

He looks at me knowingly. “Your _grief_ , then…”

“But I’m not- done…” I whisper.

“No, Sebastian... You’ve grieved enough…” he says, firmly. “It’s time to live... Go back to him...”

“I’m not ready!” I panic. “I’m not ready to let you go!”

“Who said anything about letting me go? I’ll always be here for you…” His hand curls around mine.

I close my eyes when I feel his warmth. “I thought - that’s what you were supposed to do?” I ask, feeling tears in my eyes.

“You let go of anything keeping you stuck or wounded. Not what’s uplifting… not what opens your heart.”

“Is that like - cheating, though?” I ask, worried.

He smirks. “If it _was_ cheating, I think he’d find a way hunt me down. Do you know he promised to kick my arse if I wasn’t nice to you…?” He laughs out loud. “You really did find the ultimate drama queen, didn’t you…”

I grin at him. “I guess I did…”

“I taught you well... I’m _proud_ of you, Sebastian…”

“You are?” I ask, eyes wide and filling with tears.

He gives me _come-on_ face. “You’re finally doing it… letting yourself live. Letting love in... I couldn’t be prouder. You my dear are the finest fag I know... other than your beloved, of course. He puts _me_ to shame!”

“That’s high praise coming from _you_ … but you know I’m not- completely…”

He rolls his eyes. “This again… I don’t care how many women you slept with, you tramp. You obsess about cock like no one else. You gravitate towards men. You fantasize about men. You slept with _far_ more men. And the only two people you ever loved were…?” He looks at me expectantly.

“Pains in my arse?” I ask innocently.

He laughs. “Literally - you complete, utter bottom.” He ruffles my hair. “Just - be honest with yourself. About everything. And honest with Jim.” He stands, and pulls me up. “Now go back to him…he needs you.”

My heart starts to race. “Will I see you again?” I demand.

He walks towards the shore, and into the waves. “I’m always here for you, sweetie. Now mind the coming storm….” He points at the dark clouds gathering in the sky. The same as in my dream from this morning - but closer...

“Is it dangerous?” I ask, filling with dread.

“Not for you…” he shakes his head, and wades in deeper.

“David? What does that mean?” I demand. “Please!”

“It means… _protect him_. The storm gathers on distant shores…” his voice echoes over the waves, and he disappears beneath the water.  
I wake up in a panic. I cover my eyes, panting. Is there a morning I’m _not_ going to be woken by a nightmare on this honeymoon? I look over to see you sleeping, and I gather you to me. I think of the dream, and I start to shake.

 

 

 _I’m deeply asleep when I feel a grabbing - shaking - *_ _Sebastian*_ _. I’m awake in an instant, grasp you to me._

_“It’s alright my love... I’m here..”_

_It’s remarkable how naturally this kind of talk comes to me now - words never said to anyone, never thought, just flow out of my mouth._

_“It’s ok my love... I know it’s hard... I’m here, I love you so much. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you.”_

 

 

I didn't mean to wake you... but I guess grabbing you and then shaking like a leaf would be cause for alarm... _shit_.

"I know you will... I know, Jim... but this dream... this dream..." I breathe unevenly, and squeeze my eyes shut. "It felt- different, somehow..."

"How?" You ask, sounding so concerned... but curious, as well. Always looking to gather information...

I hesitate. How much do I actually share with you? _Be honest with Jim_ , David had said. I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

"I dreamt I was fifteen... talking with David. I hope you don't mind me telling you that - we talked about you, for some of it. You always have to be the centre of attention, don't you?" I caress you hair, and kiss the top of your head. "Anyway - It feels like he's happy for me. He told me to go to you, and start living. And it was really sweet, until the end - when - when-"

You take my hand, and squeeze it. That gesture - is everything. I feel like I can do anything if you're by my side...

"He warned me of danger... he said it was on a distant shore, and that I had to protect you. That's all. I don't know if it was just a dream, but - it felt real, somehow... Like... Did you threaten to kick his arse if he wasn't nice to me??" I blurt, feeling silly until I see your face.

 

 

_“What... I did think that; when I was watching you walking into the sea... ok this is getting a bit spooky. You’re actually reading my mind now? Or... you do have a ghost ex-boyfriend?”_

_Do they become ex when they die? Oh fuck’s sake can we skip the semantics?_

_Right I don’t believe in supernatural shit. I must have whispered and Seb must have subconsciously heard. Over the sound of the sea..._

_“Danger for me on a distant shore - well that’s nothing new is it? It’s just - for the first time in my life I actually care. I don’t want to die or be locked up - not now I have something - someone - who makes life interesting. And wonderful._

_It’s alright Sebastian... we’ll deal with the danger. We always have. We’re not going back to distant shores until we’re good and ready. And we’ll be incredibly careful. Don’t worry my love... I’m very hard to kill, you know that. You’ll protect me... If it were really dangerous, he’d have said not to go back, wouldn’t he? It’ll be alright...”_

_I’m holding you, stroking you gently, until the shivering stops._

 

 

I can't help thinking that this is troubling you more than you let on... You're clearly concerned about me after the intensity of today, and you just don't want me to freak out. Well I _am_ freaked out - I'm _bloody_ freaked out... but I don't want to make you deal with that either. We've _both_ been through enough. It dawns on me that I have no idea how you're coping with what you went through yesterday. I've been so focused on my shit all day, I didn't even think to ask how you were doing... good work, Sebastian. Insensitive prick...

The danger on distant shores will have to wait for now. But _I'll_ have some information gathering to do, to figure this shit out. And when I do, I will _annihilate_ anyone who threatens you. You thought I was dangerous and protective before, baby? Get ready to see a whole new fucking level...

"All right, baby... I'm sure you're right. We'll deal with it later." My arms tighten around you. My head is pressed against your chest, so you can't see my jaw set with anger. Nobody threatens my beautiful love... _nobody._

"Jim... I'm so sorry I didn't talk with you about how you were doing after yesterday. I was so freaked out after my dream this morning, and then... well, you were there. It's been _a day_. How are _you_ doing? And don't just say it's my day... I need to know."

 

 

_Lunacy. I’m mad enough without starting to believe in prophetic dead boys visiting you in dreams, regardless of them repeating my thoughts. I always want to kick people’s arses. Makes sense you’d dream it._

_“Sebastian, you’re tight as a bowstring. Look, whatever is threatening us is far away. We’re here for just us. Just you and me. That’s quite enough to deal with at the moment. Just relax.”_

_You try to relax a bit, but grumble, “I still need to hear how you’re doing.”_

_How am I doing?_

_“I... don’t know; I just woke up and was told that my husband’s dead lover has been reading my mind and giving portentous omens... I’ll need some coffee before I can arrange my head enough to consider actually feeling something...”_

 

I'm starting to think I probably should just keep any dreams of David to myself, even prophetic ones. If there are any more messages in the future, then - they'll just have to be warnings from non-specific sources. I'm worried about you _and_ about potential impending doom, but the last thing I want to do is to upset you, or fuck up our honeymoon.  
"Fine..." I sigh. "I'd make you coffee, but I still can't figure out the bloody machine. I’ll send a message to Mr Álvarez to arrange a catered dinner delivered to us tonight. I don't think I'll be up for cooking, and at this point, I don't even know when I'll feel like going out. I know we haven't left the villa since we arrived, but - I feel safe here. So I just need to confirm what time we'll want to eat- soon good for you? I feel like I could eat an entire cow..." I manoeuvre us so you're underneath me. "And I'm going to need energy for tonight. You did promise today we could do whatever I wanted..." I look down at you with my best smouldering look... "And I want to collect on that promise..."

 

_“You, Sebastian, are the hottest man I’ve ever seen,” I say, eyeing you appreciatively. That look is promising... and I did wake up in a good mood, only temporarily diminished by your distress earlier._

_“So, food first, or...?”_

 

 

“I can ask for food to arrive anytime... you’re looking awfully delicious. Are you hungry?”

 

 

_“I am... “ I say suggestively, stroking your back._

 

 

“Oh... well, then...” I lean down and kiss you softly. “Mmm... You taste good...” I breathe, and kiss you more deeply.

 

 

_My Tiger... I welcome your kiss, respond eagerly, digging my nails into your skin... careful, Jim, he’s sensitive just about everywhere at this moment..._

_“So what is my Tiger hungry for right this moment?” I ask in a low voice._

 

 

“What am I hungry for...” I muse. “I’m feeling very lazy and very horny... and so _fucking_ in love with you,” I say, my breath catching in my throat. “I don’t know what I want to do, I just want... you and me.” I lace my fingers with yours. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out...” I grin at you.

 

 

_“I’m madly in love too... must be something in the water here...” I muse, stroking you with my free hand, kissing you again, licking and biting your lips, looking into your eyes, your beautiful deep eyes, looking even more attractive now than before - like I can see deeper into the blue pools._

 

 

“We haven’t even fucked in bed yet, have we?” I say, kissing your neck. “I said I wanted to in every room, and we’ve been outside every time... I think I don’t want to leave this bed for hours...” My lips move along your neck to the spot behind your ear.

 

 

_“What happened to that cow you wanted to eat?” I manage, before I am reduced to purring by you kissing that one spot that reduces me to a puddle of bliss with gooseflesh._

 

 

“The cow can wait,” I growl into your throat. “I have my sights set on tastier prey...”

 

 

_“Rrrrrr....” is all I can say as you make me shiver - time for revenge. The side of your neck is very sensitive.... I kiss, suck, and bite and feel the hairs on your arm rise._

 

 

I shiver at your mouth on my neck. “Oh, is that the way it is...” I whisper. I press your wrists down hard against the bed, and then lean over you, devouring you with my eyes.

 

_Fuck your eyes look like blue fire around a deep black centre. I stare into them, licking my lips._

 

 

“See something you like?” I inquire. I move my lips to your ear lobe, and tug on it with my teeth.

 

 

_“Mmm...” I purr. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Sebastian Moriarty... The sexiest man on the planet. Well. Second sexiest.”_

 

 

"Mmm... I'd agree with that, you hot little fucker... nobody has ever turned me on like you..." I press my body against you, and grind my cock against yours. "Oh... what have we here..."

 

 

_“A rather magnificent cock, it would appear... Trust me, I have ample experience with said cock - it is top of the range. I can recommend it for manual, oral, or anal use - it’s quite effective at relieving persistent horniness.”_

_I move my hips against yours, feeling your cock rub against mine, making a small shiver run up my spine._

 

 

I close my eyes, suck in my breath. "Fuck, I love your voice..." I say roughly. "You are making me so hot right now..."

 

 

_“That’s a good thing, because as you know I love talking... talking about the many many ways I will want to have you, will want to make you scream and moan and pant... my beautiful beautiful husband...” I whisper._

 

 

"Oh...don't stop, my hot – gorgeous - husband..." I say breathily, pressing my face to yours, and rubbing against your cock. My hands tighten on your wrists, and my breath starts to quicken.

"No one can talk like you...sweet talk... dirty talk... How do you want to make me scream and moan and pant on our honeymoon, baby...? Fuck me so hard I cry? Go slowly and gently until I'm begging?" I start to rock my pelvis against yours. "Are you going to tie me up so I'm helpless?" I purr. "Get kinky? Make me bleed?"

 

_“All of the above, and more,” I murmur, delighting in the feeling of you rubbing against me._

_“You’re so incredibly hot at all times... but never more so than when you’re gasping out my name, tears streaming down your face... or maybe it’s when you’re kneeling in front of me with your eyes burning with lust... or no, when you’re looking up at me, your mouth round my cock... you know, I can’t decide... I’ll have to try it all again...”_

 

 

"Mmm.... yes... all of it, again and again... " I say, still rubbing against you and feeling like I'm about to float off in bliss. "And I think _I_ need to see your face in ecstasy when I'm fucking you... right now.." I whisper, and reach between your legs to stroke your cock.

 

 

_“That’s another favourite, yes...” I look into your eyes, nearly all black now, and then moan when I feel your hand on my cock._

_Call me old-fashioned or sugary, but I adore looking you in the face when you’re fucking me - the looks, like I’m god’s own gift to mankind, I’m Mr Sex himself...._

 

 

"Well then..." I grin at you, and reach into the bedside table for the lube. "I guess _that's_ what we’re going to do..." I squirt lube onto my fingers, and caress your opening before sliding a finger in. "Oh... you feel so good already, and I've barely begun..." I whisper, staring at you hungrily.

 

_“Fuck Sebbie, you’re the best fuck ever... The only person I’ve ever enjoyed being fucked by. I used to think it was just something to be endured... lie back and think of fucking Ireland... but your cock is fucking heaven...”_

_I push myself down on your finger eagerly, reaching up to kiss you. “My love...”_

 

 

I sigh against your mouth, and feel my cock hardening more. One arm moves around you to hold you. I slide in another finger, and begin to prepare you.

"No one compares to you, baby... but _especially_ when it comes to fucking. You take it to a whole other level..." I kiss you with deep hunger.

 

_It’s interesting how when one is in love the object of one’s infatuation becomes so perfect in every aspect... I wonder how much of that lasts when the chemicals fade._

_I can’t imagine ever *_ _not*_ _looking at you with dewy moon-eyes, but knowledge of the world tells me it will happen some time..._

_I’ll see about that when it happens though. Right now, let’s enjoy the sensation of being fucked by the best shag in the world, the most beautiful man, the most fascinating person, the sweetest friend..._

_“You’re so fucking amazing...” is all I can think of to say._

 

 

"And _you_ are the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen..." I breathe. "I can't believe I can just touch you like this whenever I want... well, whenever it's allowed," I grin.

"Which hopefully will be often. Because I really love to fuck you, baby..." I remove my fingers, and rub lube on my cock. I look down at you, my heart rate increasing. "I really do..."

 

 

_“Things are different, I guess... You can touch me however you want, say whatever you want, unless instructed not to, instead of the other way round. I’ve grown way too fond of your touches to deprive myself of them again..._

_I love your hand on mine, your spontaneous kisses, your strokes in the night... and your cock in my arse...”_

_I look into your eyes, loving the look in them - loving, a little bit concerned, and so full of lust..._

 

 

"Oh, thank fuck," I say hoarsely, and dive down onto your lips. I kiss you deeply, tenderly, passionately, my hand caressing your cheek. I had no idea how much it had been worrying me - the thought of not being able to touch you as I had been these last few days. "Because I can't imagine not touching you... and kissing you... and..."

I draw back and gaze at you. The look in your eye unleashes desire in me. "Fuck, yeah..." I say roughly and move your legs into position.

 

 

_“Sebastian, no, never again... I had no idea what I was depriving myself from... You’re so fucking hot and sweet and sexy and if you’re not inside me in ten seconds you’ll also be extremely dead.”_

 

"Your threats are extremely motivating, sweetheart..." I look at you with lust as I move my cock against your arsehole, slowly easing it in. "Mmmm..."

 

 

 _Oh *_ _god*_ _. It is slightly achy but mostly absolutely fucking delightful..._

_“Sebastian... Seb... I want you... fuck I want you...”_

_I must have woken up more horny than I expected, I’m really gagging for it... but you are always careful, even if I am not, and are moving slowly and deliberately, despite my attempts to push you deeper._

 

 

"I fucking want you too, baby..." I sigh, as I feel you closing around my cock. "Oh fuck, you feel good..." I groan, continuing my advance.

 

 

_I’m grabbing you with my hands and legs, trying not to tear open any wounds, but mostly trying to pull you inside me. It feels great to be able to just let myself go with you, not having to be the one in control all the time._

 

 

I chuckle as I feel your frenzied motions. "Are you trying to tell me to hurry the fuck up, love?"

 

 

_“If I were to tell you to hurry the fuck up you’d know it... I’m just expressing my desire for you. But now you mention it... do hurry the fuck up and fuck me hard...”_

_I scratch my nails down a weal on your arse._

 

 

I suck in my breath, and grin at you. "Ohhh... you want me to fuck you _hard_ …" I say, surging into you. "Something more like that?" I whisper, sliding out almost all the way, and then thrusting into you forcefully.

 

 

 _“*_ _Fuck.... yes*..._ _” I groan, writhing underneath you. Feeling you fill me up, take me, love me, fuck me... is everything..._

 

 

My slow pace has been shot out of the water by your response, and I find myself thrusting deeply into you. "Oh Jesus, oh fuck, Jim... you're so fucking hot..."

 

 

 _*Yes*_ _, yes, that’s it Sebastian, fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me like only you can..._

_“Sebastian... Seb... fuck, Seb...”_

_I feel I want to feel helpless... I grab your hand, pull it up, lie my hands next to my head like they had been earlier, and you understand, take my wrists again, hold them down, as you are fucking me hard... and it’s so incredibly hot..._

I rock my hips against yours, aiming to stimulate the sweet spot, before thrusting hard into you again. " _Ohhh_ … I love to fuck you, my beautiful love... I will – never – have - enough of you," I groan, as shocks of pleasure move through me.

 

 

_My eyes are closed in ecstasy, but I force them open because I want to see you; your face when you’re fucking me has to be the hottest sight in the world. I look into your eyes, burning with hot blue flames, my own eyes wide, groaning - “You’re the best... your cock is a fucking legend... Seb...”_

_then you hit that spot and my eyes screw shut again..._

 

 

I pull your hands over your head and press down on your wrists. I'm leaning over you, as I grind into you, thrust into you, moaning. "My beautiful dark angel... all - fucking - mine..."

 

_“My Tiger... my love, my life...” I pant - “you feel so good - how do you do it - sold your soul to the devil, I bet...”_

 

 

I laugh low in my throat. "The devil was impossible to resist... but I made out like a bandit... no - fucking - regrets..." I groan as I hit the sweet spot again and again...

 

_“The devil is extremely pleased with the deal... but... to be honest... as lovely as I’m sure your soul is... he’s in it for your body... hotter than anything in hell...”_

 

 

I laugh again, ecstasy pouring through me. "The devil would know. I'm just his not-so-humble servant... here to do his bidding... here to give him pleasure.. like fucking his arse, just the way he likes..." I pant, and lean in to kiss you fiercely.

 

_“I’m going to make you head demon... Second fallen angel in command... I know, you’ve been sent from heaven to fuck me into oblivion, haven’t you? Them and their nasty tricks...”_

_I’m babbling, not really aware of what I’m saying, you’re just so fucking amazing... and so amazing fucking...._

 

 

"Yes, I'm your head demon... your Second fallen angel..." I moan, moving in you harder and faster. "And I will fuck you into oblivion... but _our_ heaven is just for us..."

I feel myself being swept away by ecstasy as my cock is pounding into your sweet arse... "my dark lord... my morning star..."

 

_"Fuck, Tiger... Seb..." I groan. It feels so deliriously good, being fucked by you, being held down by you as you pound away... Your cock touching that sweet spot again and again until I am writhing and moaning with pleasure._

 

 

"So fucking good, baby..." I groan, "Come with me..."

I pull back far enough to reach down and stroke you, as I continue to fuck your arse. I seize both your wrists with my other hand, and squeeze them hard.

 

_"You're so fucking good Seb... I'm going to fuck you so hard later... I want to make you whine the way you make me... Godd..... Fuuuuuck.... *_ _Sebastian*_ _...."_

 

 

"Moan for me, baby..." I whisper. "I know you'll have me sobbing later..." I stroke your cock faster as I fuck you hard into the mattress.

 

_I arch my back as I feel myself getting close to ecstasy... your hand pressing on my wrists, your magnificent cock thrusting inside me, your hand making the perfect movements... like every little thing about you is perfection... every bit... god Tiger... Tiger... "*_ _Tiger*..._ _" I moan, shuddering, feeling myself rush out over your hand._

 

 

Your violent shudders are so beautiful, I can't resist any longer, and I let myself be swept away by my own orgasm. I'm shouting wordlessly as I come, pressing into your arse, pouring into you. "Jim..." I pant. "Baby... I love you...so much..."

 

 

_"I love you... I love you... god I love you..." I moan as I feel you losing yourself inside me, my love, my husband, my Tiger, mine mine mine..._

_You collapse onto your elbows, letting go of my wrists, always so careful not to collapse on top of me lest you prove too heavy for my delicate frame... silly Tiger... I wrap my arms around you, pull your head down, kiss you. "You are so fucking incredible... I love you my Tiger... I love you, so much..."_

 

 

I pull back just long enough to slide out of you, and then settle against you. I press my face against yours. "I love you endlessly, Kitten..." I sigh, "Infinitely..."

 

_"We're such gushing teenagers... It's a good thing I made sure our place was *_ _private*_ _. I thought it was mostly to not be annoyed by others, but I realize that it's also to keep others from suffering through witnessing two grown men fawn all over each other. Look at me being all altruistic," I mumble as I dig my face into your neck._

 

 

"That's altruistic, all right... I'd find it enjoyable to _inflict it_ on others...but not for a while yet..." I sigh in contentment, my hands cradling your head. "That was.... mmmm."

 

 

_”You are mmm..." I nibble your neck. "And we probably should call for that food... we'll need our strength back for tonight..."_

_I stretch lazily, make no move though. It's so good to just lie in your arms postcoitally... both sweaty and spent and relaxed, just gazing and kissing and babbling inconsequential words..._

 

 

I smile at the feeling of you lying all lazy in my arms, your mouth on my neck... "Tonight...there's more?"

 

 

_"Whatever you wish today Tiger, remember...? And I've never known you to be satiable... Call Mr Álvarez for his food, and let's have a shower, and see how your skin is."_

 

 

"Satiable? What's that?" I ask, pretending to look bewildered. I wink and extricate myself from you, grab my phone, and speak briefly in Spanish. "Si. Gracias," I finish, and throw the phone back on the night table. "We have 30 minutes..."

 

_I stretch, reluctantly get off the bed, drag my body into the shower. When you join me I peel off your bandages, making sure your wounds look good. You roll your eyes, but I remind you that your skin is precious to me - "After all, I can't hurt it when it's still healing..."_

_The look in your eyes at that satisfies me that I've made my point._

_I rub healing and soothing cream on appropriate parts of your body, and we go downstairs in boxers - "I do hope dinner is not going to be a formal affair, my darling? I did bring some good suits, of course... "_

 

"Oh, hell no... it's my day, and no clothes are allowed. I can't check out your body as easily in a suit.." I fondle your arse cheek as you walk. "Or grope whatever I like..." I fondle the other cheek, and the doorbell rings.

"Why don't you sit your sweet arse down in the living room, and I'll bring the food in? And choose a film if you like, I don't care what we see..."

 

 

_I stand on tiptoes to give you a kiss - so great to have this easy, free manner with you. Why did I always insist on being a despot in the past? I really can't see it any more. Something to do with power and control. That seemed important at the time.... I mean, it's hot, sure, but it's so much more relaxing to just watch you be at ease..._

_But that was what I was afraid of, wasn't I? You being at ease with me would mean you would no longer respect me, would waltz all over me, like people used to do in the past, before I made it clear that I was a psychopathic tyrant who would tear anyone apart who didn't cower in fear before me..._

_God, I was pathetic._

_I'm still musing as you walk into the living room with a big tray of food. "There's more in the kitchen. Mr Álvarez seems to have mixed us up with the party of lumberjacks staying in his other villa. Drink, love?"_

_"I'll have a rum and coke please - and do put more coke than rum in it this time..."_

_I remember I'm supposed to pick a film, have a look through the collection - nothing in Spanish please - in the end I settle for Reservoir Dogs, we both like that one._

 

I place the tray on the table as you're setting up the film. "So, I just put a little of everything out, and you can see what you want more of. I thought we could order every day, but I think this will last us for at least two... There's enchiladas, try some... and grilled cactus! Who knew you could eat that..."

I heap my plate, while you eat a more moderate amount as usual... I offer you forkfuls of mine, and occasionally move the fork away from your mouth at the last second. You pretend to get huffy, and snatch the fork away from me. Complete idiocy... and it makes me feel so happy. Oh - happy... right...

I slide my arm around you as we watch the film, and by the end we're tangled up together as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Roads - Portishead


	8. A Fucking Force of Nature

_"I'm sorry love, I know I promised you more evening delights, but I'm absolutely stuffed... That was delicious though. I think the Mexican is now my favourite cuisine," I purr lying against you. "This is perfection... good food, good drink, good film, good company... I think I could get used to this life..._

_So... you asked how I was feeling earlier... I'm... good. I am alternating between insanely happy and in love, and... worried, I guess. I always planned the future so carefully, and now it's all shaken up... I was going to come back to London, take over the Empire again, prepare for Holmes' return... Yeah, bastard is coming back, of course he is... He's as attached to London as to his precious doctor._

_Now... I don't care about the Empire, I don't care about Holmes, I don't care about London... I know that will all come back, but things will have changed, and I don't know how, and I don't care enough to plan. Which makes me worried. Does that make any sense?"_

 

"Well... it's been a long, intense day and we finished it off with a Mexican feast. Just promise me the delights will come tomorrow..." I kiss your neck, feeling blissful. "And yeah, that makes sense. I'm right there with you. I can't imagine wanting anything else right now... or ever again? I know that could change... but right now everything I want is right here."

I look at you, my brow furrowing. "Are we just burnt out and need an extended holiday from our life of crime? The whole thing is pretty fucking weird... I have no idea what to think about it, except - you know me, I'll follow your lead. I'm just not ready to go back yet..."

 

 

 _"Me neither - don't worry, my love, we're not going back any time soon. Not until we're both good and ready. Do you want to go back to London though? We could go anywhere, really... But... I'm kind of attached to the stupid city. I know you're going to think it's about Holmes, and it is a bit - I do want to finish things off with both of them - but also - London made me. It repaired me, in a way... Dublin had broken me; I was just a little ball of seething hatred when I arrived there, with just the clothes on my back, and a hundred quid my trick had given me. And it was_ _good_ _to me. I met the right people - saw the right chances, and took them - I could map that city like I never had been able to with the cesspit that is Dublin; I could see how it worked, what made it tick... and how I could make it tick a bit faster or slower by applying the right pressure in the right place... I learnt to play her like a fiddle, and the song she sang was beautiful... and just for me."_

 

"I just assumed we'd go back... I definitely thought you'd want to. But maybe we just need to get away more often. It's not like the Empire doesn't allow for mobility... most of it can be taken care of from a laptop. So wherever you want to be our home base, I'm there - but London is very you, and very us," I kiss your forehead.

 

 

_"How do you feel about London? I mean - it's not really been a happy place for you - you spent much of your early adulthood trying to get away from it..."_

 

 

"Yeah... lots of bad memories. But it's also home, and where I met you. I don't think I have any issues with living there. I just don't know that I want my entire life to be centred in London anymore..."

I look at you in surprise. "I don't think I fully realized that until this moment... and I have no idea what that would look like."

 

 

_"My sweet beautiful Tiger... is this new for you? Getting to make your own decisions in life? It must be, mustn't it?" I realize suddenly._

 

 

"I guess so... yeah. My big life decisions were to join the army, and to work for you. And then - to kiss you instead of kill you..." I press my lips to yours sweetly, "Best decision ever..."

 

_"Oh you didn't have a *_ _choice*_ _to come and work for me... " I smile, "I knew I wanted you the moment I heard about you, and then when I saw you... well, I really hoped that you'd live up to your reputation, but if not, I was considering seducing you incognito. Which of my aliases would have been most successful, do you think?"_

 

 

I laugh in delight. "Whaaat? James Moriarty was planning to _seduce me_... And I'm just hearing about this now?? I don't know, there are so many to choose from... What alias were you considering?? And then, why did you make me wait for a year and a half??"

 

 

 _"Well, if you *_ _weren't*_ _what I was told you'd be, I would have checked out what type you went for, and would have based my alias on that... The type you went for appeared to be 'anything that breathes', so that wouldn't have been too hard... *_ _ow!*_ _Well it was! You know how hard it was not to kill all those guys you slept with when you first started working for me?!”_

 

I stare off in the distance and then look back at you. "You know, I do remember making plans with a couple of guys, and they seemed to just fall off the face of the earth... funny that..." I watch your face closely and then laugh in disbelief at your innocent expression.

"Seriously...?"

 

 

 _"Look, I *_ _tried*_ _, OK? I didn't even want to pursue you - you seemed a really promising guy and I didn't want to compromise things by getting involved with you. I had the rule never to fuck someone more than a few times, and then get rid of them - not like that! - well, not always... but I mean, not to keep them around - never to fuck people who were high up in the Empire - I liked to keep things clean. I had all those *_ _rules*_ _\- and then there was you. And you broke *_ _all*_ _the rules. You were too fucking hot to put out of my mind, but you were too talented to fuck and discard. I took you on some missions and the fucking *_ _mouth*_ _on you - anyone else would have been dead, but I just found it hilarious. And seeing your work up close, I was even more impressed. So not being able to fuck you, but seeing others do just that.... Well... you know I get moods sometimes. Don't worry, most of them just were talked to or inconvenienced. There were one or two though... That fucking arrogant *_ _actor*_ _, for example... what a piece of slime. Hands all over you.... "_

 

"Mmm. The nerve... not realizing I was the future property of my boss..." I shake my head, grinning. "As it turns out... I'm just dark and twisted enough to find this endearing and sexy... you adorable psycho..." I lean in and kiss you. "I'm glad you bent the rules for me... and I'm glad my mouth made you laugh and not kill me. I felt like I was taking my life into my hands every time I opened it, and I still - couldn't - stop - myself...." I kiss you softly along your neck.

 

_"You had a death wish, I could see that - but you also had a survivor's instinct that kept getting in the way. Going on dangerous army missions that might get you killed, but then coming out victorious because when push comes to shove you know *_ _exactly*_ _how to stay alive. And this urge to be the *_ _best*_ _at everything - even at Oxford you excelled before dropping out, then became the star of the SAS, and when working for me - of *_ _course*_ _you had to work your way up until you were second only to me._

 _So - when *_ _did*_ _you fall for me?"_

 

 

"Well obviously I thought you were hot from the very beginning, but it was kind of like admiring a rattlesnake from afar. You just seemed to have _Death_ written all over you... It was fucking intriguing and sexy as hell, but I felt like I needed to have a better fix on how you worked, before I could consider anything... and as for actually falling for you? I think it was the time I got wounded on a mission, and you took me home to patch me up... was that six months in? Thereabouts... there was no way I could be that close to you, with your hands on me and not feel something... or not feel what I'd been keeping myself from feeling all along..." I look at you, and a feeling of awe comes over me. "And now here we are..."

 

 

 _"Here we are indeed... I'm so glad I - you - *_ _we*_ _broke all my rules. It does make me wonder why I bother sometimes... But then I remember that there's the rest of the world, who are not us. If I didn't give them rules, there's no saying what chaos would ensue... But as for *_ _you*_ _..." I stroke your neck, looking at your blue eyes, the candle you lit earlier reflected in them, "I do long to see what you will become when you are no longer restricted by rules... A force of nature...."_

 

 

"No longer restricted by rules?" I ask. "How will that work exactly? You'll tell me when you want me to do something, and the rest of the time I do what I want?"

_"... I guess? What, I'm the relationship expert now?" I shrug._

_"I mean - yes, I still expect you to do what I say when I say it. I'm not going to have discussions about orders, in work or in personal life. And - the disobeying you did earlier - if you do that when we're having sex, in order to goad me - fine. But don't *_ _ever*_ _think about doing something like that on a job, alright?_

_But in general - I'm not going to keep you on a tight rein, restrict what you can do. You're *mine*_ _, and that will always play a role in your decisions, I suspect - I guess that's normal if you're in a marriage? The other person's well-being is something you always consider? But other than that - yeah, do what you want. Thus far, I've greatly enjoyed seeing you do what you want..."_

 

 

"Jim... I would _never_ do that on the job..." I look at you, shocked. "I'm sorry I took you by surprise today - like I said, it surprised me too. I think I was just unconsciously afraid it would mean going back to the way things were, and I was acting out. I don't feel that way now... Will I rebel during sex, on occasion? Maybe?? But I trust you and your decisions, Boss..." I kiss your hand reverently. "In work, in life... in everything."

 

 

 _"You know - it scares me too," I confess. "When I realize that it's only been a few days, and we're both so high on dopamine, and realize that that will wear off at one point - I wonder what will happen, how we are going to be when we're... more normal. But things could never get back to how they were. You were right - you wouldn't let me, even if I went there in a bout of madness. And I wouldn't want it back - a large factor in why I oppressed you so heavily was - fear. I never let others get so close, and you_ _were_ _so uncomfortably close, so I needed to keep you under absolute control, so that you were really nothing more than an extension of my will, hardly a different person. By some miracle you didn't destroy me when you were off the leash - so the fear is eased off now, and even if the chemicals wear off, that fear is not going to come back. I discovered you are not a wild beast kept barely in check - well you *_ _are*_ _\- but I also found a fascinating multifaceted *_ _person*_ _that I've grown awfully fond of. And the wild beast is not going to tear me limb from limb - only devour me occasionally..."_

 

"Heh... If I were going to destroy you, it would have been in the first few hours... I'm assuming it would have been the same for you. So I think we're safe..." I shake my head, laughing.

"Jesus, we're head cases. It actually does so much good to hear your reasoning for how you were back then... but I didn't finish asking you about a couple of things." I grin slyly. "You mentioned something about when you first saw me... were you interested from then?"

 

 

 _I grin as I think back... "Ben told me about this ex-army guy who seemed promising. You'd done some work for acquaintances, and word got round that you were fast, sharp, and ruthless - and the best shot in London. So I told him to get a file together, and naturally that file had pictures. Call me shallow - but *_ _damn*_ _, you looked hot in all of them. Damn Ben though - he knew what I liked, and he'd chosen this one pic of you on the beach - totally unnecessary for professional reasons - that picture came to bed that night... *_ _Anyway*_ _, that's when I decided I had to have you - either as a sniper, or as a shag. The file was clear on your preferences - I wasn't going to force you if you were straight or anything - but then you went and made things difficult by making me want you as *_ _both*_ _. I don't think there was ever a moment when I *_ _didn't*_ _want you. I decided I would stop desiring you when I realized you had great potential as sniper, assassin, and later bodyguard... but deciding something and it actually occurring appeared two entirely different things."_

 

"You... took a photo from my file to bed?" I ask, in disbelief. "Before you even met me?? Christ... that would have blown my _fucking_ mind..." I lean back against the sofa cushions. " _God_ , you played your cards close to your chest... I had no fucking clue. And here I thought _I_ was pursuing working with you, and then sleeping with you...??" I fill most of a glass with rum, add a splash of coke, and drain it.

"OK, I hope you know I'm going to be processing that for a long fucking time..." I pour more rum in my glass, and another splash of coke.

"So here's a confession for you... the reason I was sleeping around so bloody much...? It was all the sexual frustration I was feeling working for _you_. Yeah I know, I wasn't exactly keeping it in my pants before. But it went to a whole new level after a few months of working for you. Every time I left a mission where I had any contact with you, even by phone or by bloody _text_... by the time I was wrapped up for the evening, I was so tied up in knots, I had to find someone to work it out with. Or I'd be yanking it at home, thinking of you. And I tried to convince myself I just thought you were the hottest man I'd ever met, and I just wanted to shag you... even if it killed me." I raise my glass. "But I did it... I shagged you and lived. Skol…"

I knock back my rum (and coke), and throw myself back against the sofa, and look at you. "And you totally knew I wanted you... didn't you..."

 

 

_“Of course I knew. The look in your eyes when you looked at me, especially when you thought no one saw you... but my hands were tied - I needed you for the job; no matter how hot you were, I was not going to give up my most talented man for a few hours of fun. But it was fucking torture... the amount of times we were close together and I could feel your desire radiating off you like a fricking furnace, and I couldn’t jump you..._

_For me it took the other route - I had no sex, with anyone. I just got an unhealthy obsession with you. But I would *_ _not*_ _let myself develop plans for having you. Oh I could think up so many... breaking my rules in so many creative ways... but my rules kept me alive and I was almost religiously devoted to them._

 _And then finally I couldn’t resist any more. I *_ _had*_ _to have you even if it was the death of me. And I’d seen who you were, underneath all that strength and skill and power...dying to be overwhelmed, to be owned... which made you even *_ _more*_ _perfect and hot, and I hated you for it - how can one man be all I’ve ever wanted in one, very attractive, package?! So I decided I could flaunt the rules, if I could completely break you and shape you into the perfect tool, with no personality of your own...”_

 

 

I let out a long breath. "Hearing that out loud is... I don't even have words. _Jesus_ , I was broken..." I stare at the ceiling, shaking my head. "... and completely obsessed with you, too. I thought it would be such a relief to fuck you, and get it out of my system. But I never saw _that_ coming... dominating little fucker. You broke down my defences, and left me wide open... to you. So it just got worse and worse!

I wanted more, and I couldn't have you, so I couldn't _ever_ be satisfied. _God_ , we wasted a lot of time and energy on fucking angst and head games. Do you ever think that?? A year and a half of obsessing about each other but not touching... two and a half years of fucking, living together, sleeping together... but doing anything to keep ourselves from _really_ touching... and then topping it off with your little Tuscan sabbatical..." I realize I've been glaring at you, and I sigh heavily and squeeze your hand.

 "I could go over this and over this a million times in my head, and it still comes down to... big fucking waste of time, and why the _fuck_ did we put ourselves through all that? Oh right... terrifyingly fucked up psychos..." I roll my eyes, but pause to consider this. "Well, I guess it makes sense that any kind of relationship we had would have been completely fucked up, too... I'm really hoping everything we put ourselves through for the last two days will make a difference to our mental health...still feels like a weird concept for us to be talking about. But I do feel better, Jim..." I slide my arms around your neck. "I _do_ ," I assure you. "So... I didn't only bag the hottest man I've ever seen... I married a clever fucker, didn't I?"

 

 

 _“You married an insane criminal psychopathic idiot, is what you did... can’t fault your taste, though, I did similar. But... you’re being very generous saying *_ _we*_ _wasted time, and *_ _we*_ _put ourselves through all that - but the fact of the matter is - it was me. You were perfectly nice and normal compared to me._

_I mean - I could have asked you on a fucking *_ _date*_ _, couldn’t I? Take you to a nice restaurant, drag you home afterwards and shag you senseless. It’s not like you didn’t know where I lived - did you know that was the first time I let anyone into my house? That time when you got hurt and both my fucking doctors were unavailable - that was the first rule I broke..._

_I’d never let anyone know where I lived - but it was either that or let someone else deal with it and I didn’t trust *_ _anyone*_ _to patch you up -“ I stroke the scar on your side. “It was a really nasty wound… and I decided that if it was going to be stitched by an amateur, at least it would be a genius amateur. I was so fucking worried...”_

 

 

Your hand on my scar gives me shivers. "Babe.. was it written into my contract that I had to go along with everything you did? Did you show up at my apartment with a gun and force me to submit? I didn't have to do _any of it_ , you realize... I might have seemed nice and normal compared to you, but clearly I was anything but... _yes_ , I'd have to agree with insane and idiot, and the rest has already been clearly established..."  
I interlace your fingers with mine - I find it comforting every time. "A date, huh... seems pretty fucking unlikely, but what would that have been like? Maybe we should go on one... here. Not that I'm not enjoying having you all to myself..." I press my lips gently to your earlobe.

 

 

_"Mmmm, a date... so, I'd take you to a very swanky restaurant... both wearing nice suits - don't worry, I packed you one... I do love showing you off in a suit. You look so fucking hot... Then see the waiter break out in a sweat as he's not sure which one of us to pull the chair out for... see the looks of the customers on the other tables as we hold hands, look into each other's eyes, feed each other morsels off our plates... Order a big dessert with two spoons and feed each other... and then I accidentally drop some ice cream on your hand, and take it to lick it off... but then I keep licking, and lick your finger, put it in my mouth... and I see a gentleman get red and look away and a lady fan herself vigorously... Meanwhile, I've kicked off one of my shoes and my toes are playing around under the table, stroking the insides of your thighs, hidden by the table cloth... and you're trying not to blush which is so adorable... And we'll whisper to each other how we'd kill each of our fellow customers, and any waiters who are annoying... and we giggle and this lady on the adjacent table thinks we're so adorable, whilst we plan to have her slowly lowered into a snake pit..._

_I think we should have a snake pit. Villains don't have good old-fashioned snake pits any more. Our next house should have a snake pit, don't you agree?"_

 

 

I'm laughing throughout your scenario. "Snake pit, and don't forget a shark tank. Poor lady - I would have let her go, but then I'm the _nice_ one aren't I?" I push your shoulder playfully.

"That sounds terribly romantic. And the date would be over once we were asked to leave by the manager for being exhibitionists or threatening the customers. And we'd go home and end up shagging just inside the front door, because we wouldn't make it as far as the patio, or the bedroom. I thought of which aliases would have worked best on me, by the way..."

 

 

_"I wonder, if we tip the maître d' enough, how long he would look away whilst you are blatantly blowing me under the table..." I muse._

_"So, who'd have worked on you?" I'm curious - I really don't have an idea._

 

"I thought of two. Well, you're so bloody hot I would have noticed you immediately. But there's a couple of your personae that would have made me want to punch them, so I don't know how far they would have gotten..." I chuckle at the thought. "But I doubt you would have used them for seduction. I had a thing for your astrophysicist. A little arrogant, but mmm.... brainy. Intense. And you fucking knew what you were talking about... didn't you. You blew my mind, my mad genius..."

 

_"Ah, yes, I like him! If I'd had the chance to go to university I would have liked to do astrophysics... or theoretical mathematics. I think he's definitely a side of me... maybe the me I would have become if I would have been born in your circles. With a less psycho dad, preferably._

_So who's the other one?"_

 

 

I smile and look away. "Your incognito, unnamed rock star... technically, he did have me in the limo! But if he'd come up to me in a bar... it would _not_ have taken him long..."

 

 

_James Moriarty. It's insane to be jealous of your own alter ego. Stop it._

_"He did *_ _not*_ _have you in the limo babe - that was all me," I growl, pulling you close by your dog tags, kissing you possessively._

 

 

I'm taken aback as you yank me into a kiss. I had felt a twinge as I was saying it, but I'd brushed it aside. And now you're practically straddling me, as you possess my lips. I kiss back hungrily. "No - it was you," I pant, "He couldn't have got me to drop to my knees like that..."

 

 

 _"*_ _No one*_ _gets you to drop to your knees. You're a fucking force of nature, a wild untameable beast. Your family tried, your school tried, the army tried, the fucking Taliban tried... and all failed. It's just me... Only I can tame the Tiger... with just words... and a look..." I rub myself against you, look into your eyes. I can *_ _feel*_ _my eyes smoulder..._

 

And just like that, I feel myself falling headlong into your gravitational pull. "You're the only one... there's no one else," I say roughly. "Anyone who tried was put in their fucking place or destroyed..."

 

 

_"So what is it about me...?" I know I was going to seduce you, but I do find myself genuinely wondering, and the question is out before I take time to think._

_And this - this has to be the most - vulnerable question I've ever asked. Admitting that I don't *_ _know*_ _how I dominate you so effectively - would have been unthinkable any time before - today, really._

 _I don't know how - but I've always known that I could. I just knew that if I wanted you, I could have you *_ _completely*_ _devoted. I recognized this power within me that... feels it can overwhelm anyone and anything. Ever since I chose to embrace it. When I stopped being afraid of it. But looking at things logically - you were always *_ _so*_ _determined never to give in to anyone... how did I know that I could do it? How *_ _did*_ _I do it?_

_And suddenly, I'm terrified - what was I thinking asking that? Am I breaking the spell? Will it stop working when it's explained? Shouldn't I leave this... intact, instead of taking it apart in analysis? What is it about me and wanting to *_ _examine*_ _everything to death?!_

_I break out in a cold sweat. I can't take it back - I can see you thinking._

 

I blink. And blink again. And blank out. "What is it about you?" I echo. " _There's_ a question, babe... can there really be an answer?? You know, I did try to figure it out when I was really struggling with how things were between us. I was trying to... I don't know, convince myself to leave? Or at least, break off the sexual aspect of our relationship... _God_ , I can imagine how that would have gone... When I was away from you long enough... I felt like maybe it was within my grasp, and you were behaving like such a shit during those times anyway... I'd think I was free and clear, and then - it didn't take much to fall hurtling back... I really don't have an answer, do you want me to keep going?"

 

 

_"You were thinking of breaking things *_ _off*_ _!? Really? I thought - I was convinced you were completely committed... What... what were you struggling with? You couldn't have *_ _left*_ _... You couldn't have lived without me... not even then..."_

_I am genuinely shocked you considered it though. My control, less absolute than I had thought... damn..._

 

"I _was_ committed... till death did us part!! I _didn't_ break things off, but I had fucking doubts sometimes- given how you were acting, you're surprised?" I look at you in shock.

 

_"Well - yes," I say. Surely this is perfectly reasonable? "You were so utterly committed, devoted - you worshipped me, still do... What did you have doubts about?"_

 

"What did I..." I break off and stare at you. "Seriously??"

 

 

_I seem to have misjudged the situation. You are looking at me like I'm saying something incredibly dense. The cogs in my brain whirr, but don't provide an answer._

_"I'm sorry, you seem to feel I'm asking very dumb questions, but... I never had any reason to doubt your absolute loyalty. No matter what I threw at you, you hurled yourself into it with total determination to bring about the *_ _best*_ _possible outcome for me. No matter what I did to you, you always, always accepted it. The worst you'd do was get angry, maybe shout or get violent, storm off - but you always came back. From – from what you said the past days I got the impression you wanted *_ _more*_ _. It never occurred to me that you might have wanted - less."_

 

 

"No, you were right the first time! I did want more! _Less_ of certain things would have been _nice_... less violence that went juuust a little bit too far, so close to the point of no return... less taking your repressed emotions out on me... less needing me to manage your moods to the point of needing to offer myself up like a golden sacrifice, to get the shit kicked out of me so you wouldn't fall the fuck apart... but you're right. I was devoted, I was worshipful, and I was willing to do it _all_... it was the other shit that was intolerable. Just when I thought I was getting somewhere with you, and actually got underneath some of the chinks in your armour, you'd go back to shutting me out, being cold as fuck, not including me in your plans... all the disappearing acts, when I didn't know where the fuck you were or when you were coming back... and it never occurred to you that I might _struggle_ with that, and wonder what the fuck I was doing with you?"

 

_I... you..._

_Oh._

_... oh._

_"Of all the things I know I've done wrong... *_ _that*_ _wasn't particularly high on the list. Sure, I know you were pissed off about me not letting you in, but... I assumed that... you know, stuff like nearly killing you several times was... worse..._

_But..._

_I can see it... I can recognize it... when you... walked out on me, back in London..._

_I'd have preferred *_ _anything*_ _, you could have broken all my limbs, but the thought of you leaving, never seeing you again... that was excruciation. And... your face when you went from passionate hatred and love to - coldness... freezing, shutting me off, shutting me out, walking away, leaving me broken on the floor..._

_Was that... was that what it was like for you? Every time?"_

_My throat constricts, tears are blurring my vision. Oh god... I am even more of a monster than I'd ever considered..._

 

 

And here we go again... fuck!! "Oh Jesus, Jim... maybe we should stop having all these open, honest conversations after such intense experiences. Neither of us is really in a place where..." I watch you cry, horrified. "Baby, please... I should have waited... it's in the past. I obviously have some emotional shit I still need to deal with, but... I shouldn't have - please, baby..." I cradle your face with my hands.

"I still have anger..." I say softly. "I still have wounds... but everything's different. And I'm right here with you... there's nowhere else I want to be."

 

_"You're fucking mad..." I squeeze the words out past the lump in my throat, but what you said does make me feel better. You're right - not now. We have a whole honeymoon and a life after that to deal with this. I can't... I just can't let my guilt overwhelm me now, because it's so strong and so heavy and I am not sure if I'll ever be able to breathe with it on top of me... I swallow, try to smile at you._

_"I'm sorry... I did ask. I just always have to poke my nose where it doesn't belong, don't I... I'm sorry Seb. Way to kill the mood..."_

 

"Yeah well, like you said - you're an idiot," I say affectionately, and kiss the top of your head. "Luckily I'm just as big an idiot. And I just figured out what it is about you, baby...why I could never leave..."

 

 

_That's... that is the best thing you could say... But I'm almost afraid to hear it... "What?" I ask, hesitantly, eagerly...._

 

"You said I was a fucking force of nature? Well, when I look into your eyes, that's what I see - you're _elemental_... you're lightning, you're thunder, you're the storm... what would I do with someone who's a summer breeze all the time? I _need_ that. I _want_ that. And as for everything you did... the storm isn't understanding... and the storm isn't gentle... but I think maybe we can learn... at least, how to roll back our primal natures enough so we can have a life together without setting the world on fire... does that make sense?"

 

 

 _"Fuck the *_ _world*_ _," I say, disdainfully. "I'll happily destroy every square inch of it. But I don't want to hurt *_ _you*_ _any more... and I'm just afraid... that I'll forget, that I'll not think for a moment, and I'll hurt you again... and the thought just is unbearable." I feel so small all of a sudden, so helpless, so utterly unable to do what I want to, what I need to... I snuggle up to you, feel your strong arms around me, my Sebastian... "The storm doesn't mean to break the mighty oak, but it just happens..."_

 

 

"Yeah, fuck the world," I whisper into your ear. "I meant, without setting _our_ world on fire. That's the only world I care about, baby. And don't worry about it, because I'm not an oak... I'm a fucking Tiger... and Tigers know when to find shelter. Or... I've finally learned. Just like you - I'm an idiot."

I hold you closely, rest my head on your shoulder. "Look at what a hothead I am with you lately... can you imagine me shutting up and letting you get away with that kind of shit again?" I laugh. " _Try it_ , baby... I guarantee you'll see something new."

 

_I know, you said... but... it'll have happened by the time you respond. I'll have said the words, see the hurt look on your face, realize, and it will be too late..._

_but..._

_I can apologize, and learn... I hope. And I won't be able to *_ _physically*_ _hurt you if you won't let me. And - I can storm off - but I can come back when I've calmed down._

 _And I realize - these are all things that *_ _normal*_ _couples deal with. Well - maybe not the one half having to be SAS-trained to fend off the other's murderous impulses. But the saying hurtful words, and getting angry, and making up... it's all part of... life, I guess. I've never really done the partaking in life. I've always been more about death. But - life with you seems much more enticing._

 _"You're right, my Tiger... You managed to survive all those years against incredible odds. I mean - I'm pretty sure the guys had bets about when and how I'd finally kill you, in those first months. And then - sharing my *_ _bed*_ _\- the amount of times you woke up with a knife against your throat, or hands around them - but to be fair, you made up for it by trying to shoot me when I came back from the loo... " I grin at the memory of our first weeks together - two volatile psychos trying to sleep together was *_ _not*_ _an easy project - but neither of us ever considered going back to separate beds._

 

"Two things... you still seem worried, and I'm guessing you think I mean won't let you pull any physical shit with me... true, but I'm also referring to _emotional_ shit. What I meant was, I'm not planning to let any bullshit fly without saying something about it. And I expect the same from you. And this has _nothing_ to do with following orders... both of us are so far from perfect, it's _laughable_. So the only checks and balances we really have are each other."

I caress your hand slowly. "The second thing is... There's something I didn't express correctly, and I think this is important. I said you were a force of nature like me, and that's why I didn't leave. That's not it... You're a force of nature, and that's why I'm so _affected_ by you... why I surrendered to you, why I find you impossible to resist... but that's not why I stayed. I stayed because I kept seeing glimpses of the real you behind the mask of James Moriarty, Mr Death himself... I saw the real Jim... and I wanted him... I wanted him so bad it hurt... even more than I wanted to be swept away by my mesmerizing boss..."

"There were times when you actually relaxed enough to let the mask slip. That time in Switzerland when we ended up with an evening to kill and we got shit-faced and giggly... and other times when you seemed so full of longing, like all you wanted in the world was to touch me, but you wouldn't let yourself…  
I _saw_ you, Jim - from behind the walls of your prison, from behind all the crumbling stones... and I wanted you... and I loved you from afar... and I waited for you... somehow I thought if I _proved_ myself, if I waited long enough, if I threw myself at your walls over and over, you would see _me_ and come out-" I break off in tears. "I know, I was so wrong, I was a blind idiot, and I went through such hell for it, and... I don't know how any of this happened... I did everything all wrong, and I got what I wanted?" I look at you in a daze, and touch your face. "You're who I saw, just for seconds at a time...and here you are! Am I dreaming this? What made you come out after so long?? Did you finally see me??"

 

_“I guess I needed a year of missing you without realizing, and then the kick in the teeth of the realization that you were going to walk *_ _away*_ _, that I was *_ _actually*_ _going to lose you for real, to finally kick my fucking brain into gear. It was sheer panic that brought you this. When you said you were leaving and I wouldn’t see you again - and you actually *_ _meant*_ _it - that was the scariest prospect I’d ever faced. Even scarier than facing feelings, even scarier than breaking my rules, than being vulnerable. I would have done anything to stop you from leaving - even breaking down my walls, apparently._

_Ironically, if you would have left sooner, it might have happened sooner. Or maybe I was only ready now..._

_But - you did *_ _nothing*_ _wrong. You did what was human, what was sensible - tried to melt down my walls by being loyal and loving, which would have worked for_ _a normal_ _person. But you chose your insane psychopath with care... The closer you tried to get, the more I needed to push you away, despite it being so hard... deep down, I wanted nothing more than to let all my defences drop away and just seek shelter and love and compassion in your arms... and of course catching even a glimpse of such feelings would drive me mad, and I’d retreat, or get furious with you..._

 _*I*_ _was the idiot, Sebastian, the one ruining both our chances at happiness. You’re the one who fixed it, by dropping the two bombs of ‘I loved you’ and ‘I’m leaving forever’ right after each other. Not even my walls could withstand such heavy artillery...”_

 

I choke back a sob. "God... is there no end to all this crying? Just when I think I'm good..." I wipe my eyes and look at you. "Well, you said it, darling... I chose my psychopath with care. No, you _can't_ take all the blame yourself, Jim! There were two of us in that house, two of us in that train wreck of a relationship... As much as I wanted you... on some level I must not have been ready either. I bloody well _thought_ I was at the time... but I didn't exactly lay it all out on the line, did I! I didn't tell you how I was _feeling_... or what I fucking _wanted_... And I didn't even come close to telling you that sometimes I thought of leaving, until..." Our eyes meet and it's intense and uncomfortable, but you don't look away. "Well... when I had already lost everything I had to lose... and I thought I was going to die, anyway... it took me beyond the edge of what seemed impossible. It was still fucking hard - to hear you say you loved me, before I walked away?? _God_... talk about heavy artillery, Jim... I had a plan to start over and you blew it to fucking hell, even before you came to find me..."

I squeeze your hand so tightly, holding on for dear life. "And I'd never been so excited to see someone come at me with a fucking gun..."

 

_"Poor Brett," I grin. "I was completely beside myself. I had no idea what I was doing, all I knew was I was going to kill you for making me suffer so much, for confusing me so much, for making me *_ _feel*_ _... for compromising everything I'd built up, smashing my walls, making me vulnerable... and then that *_ _imbecile*_ _was on your cock... yeah - sorry about that. I totally didn't care if I harmed your precious cock at that time, I was going to kill you anyway. If I'd shot a little less precisely, our honeymoon might have ended up quite different... I guess subconsciously I knew I didn't want to damage you though."_

_I look into your eyes. You're still squeezing my hand and I'm squeezing right back. We're both so acutely aware of how very close we came to losing each other just before we ended up finding each other..._

_"You wouldn't let yourself be happy. Not ever. I did wonder about that.... I knew you weren't *_ _happy*_ _with me. I knew I was what you wanted, what you needed, what you had been searching for... but you were never quite happy. You'd be elated sometimes, high on adrenaline and endorphins, but never... content. You had this... disquiet, discomfort, at your core, all the time. And it wasn't me - it was something that was inside you and that you carefully sustained and preserved. So... you didn't leave, and you didn't force the decision, because you felt that you didn't deserve happiness._

 _God, you would have made a_ _great_ _Catholic..."_

 

 

"It's good to know you wondered about me! I had no fucking clue. And no, I was not happy by any stretch of the imagination - before you or after you, either. If that helps ease your conscience...

Anyway... my day is almost done, and I don't particularly want to cry anymore... let's have a couple more drinks, put the food away and head to bed?" I pour us a couple of rum and cokes, and hand you one.  
"Here's to Brett!" I say, raising my glass. "Poor sod... he made a better shield than a distraction." I drain my drink, and gesture at you with the glass. "And as for _you_ , Jimmy the Kid... you were cutting it a bit close, you know! For someone who subconsciously didn't want to damage me... I mean, I was aware I might meet my untimely end in that alley, and I was OK with it... but come _on_... "

 

_"What!? You actually expected me to think reasonably? At all; let alone after you'd bombed through all my defences, had me realize and confess that I loved you, punched me in the gut, left me forever, and let yourself be chatted up and sucked off by some brainless hunk? I'm surprised I remembered which side of the world was up at that point. Come on darling - I think considering the circumstances, I did a magnificent job - I didn't kill you, I didn't damage you, and I managed to convince you to come home... to me..."_

_I look into your eyes and realize I am probably hurting your hand, I'm squeezing so hard._

_"I was so terrified... I *_ _wanted*_ _to kill you, the last vestiges of my defences grasped onto that as the only way to save the old status, and I couldn't, I simply couldn't... I was blasted wide open, more vulnerable than I'd ever been, and you were going to walk away again, leave me forever, leave me a total wreck of a human, defenceless, prey to all these new feelings that were *_ _so*_ _keen to make me pay for all the years I'd suppressed them, that were waiting right there, ready to tear me to shreds... I don't know *what*_ _I'd done if you'd walked away._

_So... Thank you, Sebastian. Thank you for... listening to what I said, for believing me, for not telling me to go fuck myself for all I'd done, but... to be brave enough to actually go home with the madman."_

_I snuggle close to you. "It makes me shiver to remember how close I was to losing you... Thank you for somehow, some way, still believing in me."_

 

 

"Well, it wasn't exactly altruistic or selfless, you know... I wanted you. I've always wanted you. It felt like something had changed, and I'm too ruled by my heart to have resisted. After you shot poor Brett in the head and threatened to kill me, you suddenly got... real. No more mask... and you asked me to come _home_ … how could I say no to that?" I kiss your palm tenderly, and then look up at you. "And I never thought of what you were going through... but I see now why you acted the way you did. I'm glad we made it out of the alley alive..." I kiss your other palm. "Couple of bloody idiotic psychopaths that we are..."

I pull you onto my lap, and kiss your hair. "You don't need to worry, Jim... I won't leave you again..." I whisper fervently. "We belong together... I know that now..." The sigh I hear from you is like balm for my ragged emotions, after today's events. I rest my head on your shoulder, and close my eyes.

 

_"I know it wasn't purely altruistic, but it was incredibly courageous. You know how volatile I am - I might have changed my mind and decided to shoot you anyway; or gone back to our old ways... you really don't get enough credit for how immensely brave you are. With many guys it's just stupidity - but you know exactly what you are getting into, and do it anyway. You'd *_ _finally*_ _gathered the courage to get away from me, and you just dropped all that, that whole lengthy process of prying yourself away from your dead lover, the psychopath, the cold unfeeling tyrant, the excruciating sadist, only to jump *_ _right back*_ _into his arms, just on the hope that he might finally have changed._

_You say you are ruled by your heart, you are indeed. And your heart is so much braver and wiser than my cold calculating allegedly genius brain..."_

_I kiss your cheek, stroke your hair._

_"My brave, strong, loving Tiger... you're a bloody saint. One of the old-fashioned warrior ones, like Emeterius._

_So..." I pull my head back, look at you. "I think the food has gone down enough... what about you?"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Pit of Vipers - Simon Curtis  
> Killer in the Mirror - Set It Off  
> Don't Mess With Me - Temposhark  
> Monster - Starset  
> Soul 4 Sale - Simon Curtis  
> Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys


	9. The Psychopath Behind Door Number One

I laugh roughly. "A saint I am bloody _not_... And I'd say it's less about being courageous and brave, and more about being blindly and stupidly romantic. Because when it comes to you, baby... my eyes are pretty fucking open to what you're capable of - and I still choose you. Let's just say my risk assessment told me to take the leap - and to hell with the net. Between taking a chance on you and wondering about what I'd given up for the rest of my life? I'll take the psychopath behind door number one, every time. You're _my_ sadistic psychopathic tyrant, so you're for _me_ to deal with, always.... and to put in your place, if I need to... _and_ to go down on, relentlessly..."

I shove you back, and hold you against the sofa cushions as I straddle you.

 

****

_"I'm not arguing - you're insane, but then so am I. And yes, I am yours - always. And you're mine - always. *_ _That*_ _is the only safety net we need. That knowledge that no matter what happens - fighting, arguing, anger, jealousy - at the end of the day, I have my Yours and you have your Mine. You and me against the fucking world, Sebastian..."_

 _Your eyes are glowing and I have the feeling things are going to heat up... I look at you, and am suddenly short of breath at the look in your eyes. Damn... How did I ever manage *_ _not*_ _to touch you?! I can't imagine, but I'll never get back to that hell again..._

 

I stare you hungrily. What is it about you, baby... I've always been a horny fucker, but my libido around you is off the charts...

"You and Me..." I repeat, my voice coming out husky. I was going to say more, but fuck me if I can remember what it was... instead I come in close to your face and move slowly against you, breathing in your scent deeply.

 

_You're close enough to kiss and that is all I can think of now, your mouth, your warm lips, your exquisite tongue... I move my hand to the back of your neck, kiss your lips with mine, gently, softly... they feel so silky and inviting..._

_I lick your top lip, move in, bite your bottom lip, making you gasp, then my tongue seeks entrance into your mouth. I will never get tired of this... this kissing with tenderness instead of possessiveness, with love rather than hunger... my love, my Sebastian... I stroke your shoulder, your hair, as our tongues explore each other, our hearts close together; for once, for a short moment, only sweetness..._

 

Mmm... I feel like I could kiss you forever, and it wouldn't be enough... I surrender to it, and it feels like being a teenager again, drunk on love... your lips on mine... your tongue against mine... your breath merging with mine... there's only You and Me.... My arms pull you even closer, and my hands grasp your back.

 

 

_My love, my husband, my Sebastian... I'll speak those words a million times and they'll not grow old. I have only been in love for what - four days? Five? But it's only getting better and better. I've never, never felt this... and I'm going to enjoy it for everything it's worth, because it is the best, most powerful feeling in the world. I can see why people do such crazy things... People in love were always good for business because they would do *_ _anything*_ _, and pay through the nose, just to get what they wanted. Better than junkies._

_I'd do anything. Pay over my entire fortune, give up my most prized possessions, do whatever it took to get me to be with you. And I am. And I am so incredibly fucking happy. And so are you, and that makes me even *_ _more*_ _happy. This really is some powerful shit._

_We're completely lost in each other, in the kiss, our hands stroking each other's bodies full of concentration and reverence._

_I'm not sure when it changes - it's gradual - but the heat rises, the strokes get more pressure to them, the breaths get shorter, the kissing more vehement, crotches move against each other - and suddenly the kiss is broken off, and we look at each other, panting, eyes wide and dark._

 

 

The air between us is charged, electric... it feels like it could blast us across the room... What do I want... when there are so many possibilities... when there are so many things we've already done, just today... but I want something... more...

I move against you, rocking my hips. My eyes close as I breathe in deeply. "I want you..." I say in a low voice.

When I open my eyes again, our gazes lock so intensely it nearly takes my breath away. "I want you..." I whisper.

 

 

_"However you want Tiger... I'm yours," I breathe, heart pounding under the intensity of your gaze, cock throbbing at those words._

 

 

"Slowly..." I whisper, moving against you.

"Sweetly..." My hand trails down your cheek.  
"Deeply..." I breathe. My lips seek yours again, and my tongue slips into your mouth.

 

_I lean back, letting you kiss me, stroke me, as my hands trail over your body, caressing your hair, your back, your thighs... Sliding a finger along the length of your erection, through the cloth of your shorts, making you moan softly into my mouth._

 

 

Both of us are breathing deeply, as I kiss you. Both of us are moving gently against each other. Your skin feels hot against mine. These barriers between us have to go... I lift my hips off you, and both of our hands are pulling at my boxer shorts, until they're in a heap on the floor. Then I'm peeling yours off you - it's an effort not to just rip through the fabric or yank them down over your hips. But there's something about these slow, unhurried movements... something so sensual... our kiss deepens, and my cock moves against yours. Now it's your turn to moan...

 

 

_Sebastian...feeling your skin on mine... your hard cock touching mine, rubbing slightly... even though it's only our shorts we've taken off, we feel much more naked now than before, all your skin feeling new and exciting. I move my hands over your back, feel your buttocks, still with ridges on them... I feel almost high, like I'm floating, unaware of anything except every place where your skin touches mine and electricity makes the hairs on our skin stand on end._

 

 

I move my hand down your hard cock slowly, then I pause. "Ah, sorry... where's the nearest lube, baby?" I whisper into your ear. "I want to get it now... because if I have to stop later... I may combust..." I gently suck your earlobe.

 

 

_Hello - genius. I knew something was going to happen tonight, and it was likely to be here. I point to the shelf under the coffee table - "Right there. I know my Tiger... and myself. Now don't stop moving that hand..."_

 

 

I look at you, grinning and devouring you with my eyes. "I fucking love you..." I resume stroking you, and my lips fasten themselves to your neck.

 

 

_Your hand... little currents of magic stream out from it through my cock... the gentlest stroke make me moan, and then your mouth is on my neck, and I shiver, reaching my own hand out to your cock, stroking gently with one finger from the bottom to the top._

 

 

I shiver as you stroke me. My arm winds slowly around your neck and head, like a serpent. "Do you want me to ride you?" I ask softly, my lips nibbling steadily up your neck.

 

_I gasp. "God, yes...."_

 

 

I pull back and gaze at you for a long moment, then I lean down to reach the shelf behind me. "So very clever," I murmur. I squeeze the tube into my hand, and spread lubricant over your cock... then I add some to your fingers.

 

 

_Your hand on my cock, so incredibly good already, and so full of promise of even more heavenly delights..._

_I move my hand between your legs, push with one finger, looking into your eyes, so dark with only the light of the candle behind you, but clearly smouldering. Slowly, I push inside, where it is so hot..._

 

 

I make a low rumbling sound in my throat. It feels like every nerve ending of my body is electrified as I move against you and down on your finger, my muscles squeezing you gently.

 

 

_I kiss your mouth, your neck, biting softly, sucking the skin in between my teeth, making you moan - your neck is so beautifully sensitive..._

_"God, I want you, Sebastian... I want you all the time, it's driving me insane... I've never seen anyone as hot as you, you're just impossibly impossibly sexy... everything about you, your face, your neck..." I bite, "your shoulders, arms, chest, back... your arse is legendary..." I ease another finger in. "Whenever we are out in public, I see all the glances... the blushes on the girls' faces... the guys adjusting their underwear.... you just *_ _ooze*_ _raw sexuality, you make anyone want you... and then you turn round, and look at *_ _me*_ _... ignoring anyone else, smiling at me like I'm the most desirable man on the planet... god, do you have any idea how hot that is..."_

 

 

My skin heats up and my cock twitches at the feeling of your mouth on my neck, your words, the insertion of another finger... "Oh god... Jim..." I groan. "You are... you are the most desirable man - I've ever seen... no one can compare with you, baby... _no one_..."

 

 

_"I know... and that's what makes me feel like I'm ten miles high... knowing that the hottest man in the fucking world wants me... wants me badly... wants my cock inside him... wants me to fuck him... fuck him long, fuck him often, fuck him hard..." I'm panting, moving my fingers inside you._

 

 

"You're * _all*_ I want... all I desire," I gasp, and press my lips to yours, my body to yours. My muscles are squeezing against your fingers, and I groan as I kiss you.

 

 

_"Same here.... I want you to know that, Tiger... Whatever I did before, whatever I wanted, pursued... money, power, that game with Sherlock... none of that means anything now... I'd throw it all away in a heartbeat if it would make you happy..." With a small shock, I realize I absolutely mean every word of that._

_"You are all that matters. You are the centre of my world and will remain so forevermore. My Sebastian. My beautiful, wondrous lover..."_

_I move my fingers out of you, refresh the lube on my cock, look at you longingly._

 

I want to growl at you to not mention _that name_ right now - but I manage to stay silent. Yes, I definitely still have things to express - but forcing myself to focus on your words, I know now is _not_ the time. You're saying all I could have ever hoped to hear... My eyes soften when I see how you're looking at me...

"You're my everything..." I say reverently, kissing your face over and over, before pressing my lips to yours. The kiss grows heated, and I can wait no longer.

I manoeuvre myself over your cock, and stare at you as I lower myself onto it slowly. I hiss out a breath, keeping my eyes fixed on yours as I move down over your twitching cock. Your hands grasp my arse and you thrust up into me. I groan, and I fall forward against you. You thrust again, and I press you back against the cushions. "We're going slow, baby..." I chastise, grinning deliriously. "Remember?" I slide down hard over your cock and feel you move so deep into me, making us both moan - we writhe against each other, breathing hard...

 

_Finally - it feels like I’ve been lost without you around me, longing for an eternity, until it became unbearable - I’ve never been as desperate for sex as these past days..._

_You’re warning me to go slow - *_ _really*_ _? I look up at you but have to squeeze my eyes shut when you push down on me - oh god... I gasp, moan, shiver..._

_I have my arms full of Tiger, my hands roaming over your body, your mouth kissing, nipping, gasping against my face; I grasp your arse as you move up - god you are so hot, so tight, so abysmally exquisite... I groan as you move down again, already shuddering in bliss. “My Sebastian... my husband... my love....my life,” I breathe against your skin._

 

 

I lean against you, panting... revelling in the feeling of your breath on my skin, your hands on my arse, your cock deep inside me... every sensation is like exquisite torture...

"Baby..." I breathe. "Beautiful love...." I move up and pause - preparing myself for the descent. It's so fucking intense like this - you look up at me, eyes shimmering with love and lust. I'm moving down on your cock, and you thrust up, burying yourself in me... we're both moaning and grasping each other. "Oh... baby..." I gasp. "You're so – fucking - hot-"

 

_"You - are... Fuck, Sebastian, you're so fucking incredibly... god..." I gibber as you move down again and I push myself up to meet you. God, this is perfect... I can touch you everywhere, I can look into your eyes, barely visible, I can see you move, and you're *_ _so tight*_ _\- every movement you make I feel reflected around my cock. I scratch my nails over your arse, bite your collar bone - I love you so incredibly much, but I still want to hurt you, no, not 'but'... *_ _and*_ _I want to hurt you... it's all part of love..._

 

"You're so fucking incredibly... mmm ...." I reply, a low rumble in my throat. It felt counterintuitive at first to go slowly, but the rhythmic rocking movement we've established is ... so.... fucking... hot... so... fucking... intense... every time I'm pushing down on your cock, you're thrusting up and when we connect, it's sooo shockingly good... I lean down to kiss you hungrily, and then we're grinding against each other, panting, moaning...

 

_This feels like we could keep going forever, and why not.... we literally have nothing else to do than to love each other in every way possible; talking, fucking, stroking, kissing, sleeping cuddled up..._

_It's perfection. I must have died and some administrative error got me into heaven. Me. Psychopath incapable of love. Sinner undeserving of forgiveness. Madman unable to see the truth right under his nose._

_This, what happened, everything that happened... if I were religious, I'd class it as a bona fide miracle. I'm not, but you are a proper miracle, Sebastian...._

_You move, up and down, up and down, and I groan with delight, move my hand to your cock, start stroking gently..._

 

 

My head falls back when you begin to stroke me. "Oh, babe... I love your hands on me..." I'm moving up and down on your cock, and you're pushing into me so deeply, and I hear myself keening, and fuuuuuck.... I'm not going to be able to go slow for much longer... not when you're touching me like that...

 

 

 _"Ride me, Tiger..." I groan, moving my hand in sync with your movements, feeling you tense, feeling your arousal build. "My Tiger, my beautiful brave love... Sexiest man on the fucking planet... Let me feel you, your sweet sweet arse... Your magnificent cock... Fuck, you're so fucking hot... Fuccccckkkkkkkkk...." I let out a groan, lean my head back as you increase speed... *_ _fuck*_ _that's hot..._

 

 

"That was - so - amazing- baby..." I pant, "but you're just so – fucking - hot... I can't-" I groan as you thrust your cock into me hard. "Oh, _God_ \- I love you how you fuck me - I love your cock inside me - I love it when you come in my arse, oh _fuck_ me..." I'm rocking against you hard and fast now, gasping for breath.

 

 

_Yes, slow felt great but I can't slow down now, not with you talking like that - god I can't believe I used to forbid you to talk - was it because I knew I would totally lose all control at the sound of your voice, dark and low with arousal, your words, so hot..._

_I moan, grasping you, moving my hand on your cock. "I love fucking you - your arse is so fucking hot, it was *_ _made*_ _for me, and I'm going to come so hard inside you, because you turn me on like crazy, you're just the hottest, you're perfect, you drive me fucking insane... ride me, Tiger, make me come... make me come into that tight sexy arse... "_

 

I groan at your words, your _voice_... " _Yes_ , my arse is made for you, you _own_ it.... it's all yours to whip, and fuck, and come in it, please - come in me, baby - come so hard in me..." I'm grinding against you as you fuck me, faster... harder...

 

_That just... god... your words, your arse, your movements... Sebastian, my Sebastian... I think I *_ _mewl*_ _as I feel my seed speeding up my cock to explode inside you - my head arched back, my jaws clenching, I *_ _roar*_ _... so good... so fucking good... oh god I'm going to faint, this is too much.. no I'm not fainting... but definitely seeing stars... oh god oh god oh Seb..._

 

 

And you're coming in me, your body clenching in ecstasy, and it's so fucking beautifully hot... I want to come with you, baby - I grab your hand that's holding my cock, and I move against your hand hard and fast. Soon I'm coming into your hand, and crying out, gasping...

I fall against you, resting my head against yours as I struggle to catch my breath.

 

 

_Your orgasm is a thing of beauty to behold as I'm slowly coming back down to earth... your cries, your gasps... your arse clenching against my shrinking cock..._

_And then your head is against mine, our faces touching, as we pant and gasp in an effort to regain the oxygen lost in feeding our muscles. I look into your eyes, you look back, and the sun breaks through the Mexican night as I see that grin, that infectious grin, with impossibly many teeth, a grin that always looks cheeky, mischievous, and now, inconceivably, also looks genuinely happy._

_"*_ _Fuck*_ _that was good..." I pant..._

 

 

"Fuck yes, it was..." I growl, slowly pulling myself off your cock. I fall against the sofa, facing you - I throw a leg over your waist and wrap my arm around your shoulder. My face presses into your neck. "Mmm... it was harder than I thought to go so slow, but... damn, you felt good, baby..."

 

 

_"You felt- *_ _amazing*_ _," I gush. "That was - wow. We'll have to do that again."_

_I'm completely spent, lying sprawled against the soft sofa back, cuddling you where I can, giving little kisses._

 

 

"Thank you for indulging me..." I grin. "I would love to do that again... and maybe we'll last longer next time. I got impatient..." I chuckle into your shoulder, and kiss it. "Right now, I can't even imagine putting food away and going upstairs... I don't want to move ever again..." I rest my head against your shoulder in contentment.

 

 

_"Food..." I move my hand in the general direction of the food, "will wait... There's no way I can move either. And I don't need to - the whole fucking world is right here in my arms..." I hold you close, wondering when I'd become such a soppy sentimentalist, but fuck it. Let us enjoy this. We've earnt it. We've fucking suffered enough._

 

 

"Why, Mr Moriarty..." I say in a sleepy voice. "What's come over you... not being concerned about the mess..." I wave my hand at the food. "Surely it's outrageous to leave it lying about..."

 

 

_"Yeah see I used to have this guy who cleaned it all up for me when I told him to... But I have a sneaking suspicion that he'll tell me to go fuck myself if I tell him to clean up now... and I'm really not in any shape to."_

 

 

I laugh loudly. "How terribly rude this man must be! Wherever did you find such a ruffian?"

 

 

_"London... you can find anything you like there, if you have the wits and the money. Even ruffians...."_

 

 

"My word... is that right? What a world we live in... I'd keep an eye on this ruffian of yours. There's no telling _what_ he'll do..."

 

 

 _"Oh I keep an eye... a close eye. He's rather pleasant to look at, you know, as ruffians are wont to be. But so *_ _terribly*_ _uncouth... I caught him having dinner without a jacket, the other day..."_

 

 

"No! Most unseemly... I should think you'd turn him out on the street for such behaviour, and be done with it! Or at least warn him that this kind of conduct will not be tolerated... You'll have put your foot down firmly should it happen again. That will set him straight..." my lips quirk.

 

_"Oh, I would, I would, only... he is really quite an imposing character, and me only a small fellow... I fear he may be prone to violence, or harsh words.... it's truly loathly, having to bear such a rebarbative character in one's presence... but what can a gentleman do..."_

 

 

"Harsh words and violence? To a _gentleman_? Good Lord! I should involve the authorities if he's such a beast!"

 

 

_"Oh, such a beast... truly sanguinary. And no respect for authority... he was told to get his master a drink, and the scoundrel defiantly dropped it in the dirt. No, I fear there's no civilizing these types..." I shake my head, sadly._

 

 

I give you an outraged look. "His Master, you say? And he dropped it in the dirt... What a way to behave with one's betters! Well, there's only one thing for it, I'm afraid! Some say it's harsh, but I'm of the opinion that corporal punishment is the best approach. A sound thrashing will do wonders where sweet, honeyed words come up short. Or, try a combination of both, perhaps? I'm sure _I_ don't know what people get up to behind closed doors..."

 

_"Oh, I tried that... but you know what these Englanders are like... they'll cry under the lash, but the moment you turn your back they're back to their old ways... set to bite the hand that feeds them. I say you cannot trust a single man of them... Cads, bounders, and paedicators..."_

 

 

"Oh, Englanders... reprobates, the lot of them. Well, good luck to you with your ruffian - you'll clearly need it." I bite your hand, and suck on it gently.

 

_"Oh, what can I say... I have a soft spot for our less fortunate brethren... One takes them in, one feeds and clothes them, one tries to show them the light of Christendom... But they're such ingrates..."_

 

 

"Ingrates... yes..." I raise an eyebrow at you, smirking. "Well, you have your work cut out for you, good Sir! May you be blessed by the Lord our God for all your fine work and acts of mercy..." I bite your hand harder.

 

 

 _"Oh, blessed I am," I grin, pouncing on you, kissing you all over your face. "Like I said, paedicators, the lot of them... and *_ _so*_ _good at it... at least this specimen, I have to admit I haven't tried them all out... "_

 

 

"Nor should you! One seems quite enough," I laugh in delight as I'm subjected to your flurry of kisses. I grab you, and squeeze you hard. "Idiot..." I grin. "I love you..."

 

 

 _"See?_ _SO_ _uncouth..." I grin, snuggling into your neck, kissing, moving down to your chest, laying my head down on it, relaxing, letting myself be held in your arms._

_"I love you too Sebastian.... Thank you for going through with today. I know how incredibly hard it was for you. Once again, you proved how brave you are... my soldier..."_

 

 

I can't help but feel pride at your words, and a glow in my heart... your opinion of me means the world to me. I kiss the hand I had been biting.

" _God_ , it was hard... so much harder than I even thought it would be... at times I thought it would destroy me... I didn't see how I could survive it. And the one thing that got me through it was you... I would _never_ have done it otherwise... so thank _you_ , Jim... I didn't realize how much it was affecting me. It was just a part of life, I thought... I didn't realize I _could_ feel any other way... but I really do..." I wrap my arms around you, and kiss your lips. "Thank you, baby...." I whisper. "For everything..."

 

_Yeah I'm just going to decide that tears on your honeymoon don't count. I look at you through the blurred edges of my vision. "You did it for me yesterday, Sebastian... and I *_ _wanted*_ _to unburden myself, and it was so fucking hard... You didn't even want this, just did it because I *_ _made*_ _you. And I know it's done you good... but taking that step into the abyss, solely on trust... that was incredible. Thank you, my love, for trusting in me. Still."_

 

"You always were a bossy fucker," I murmur into your neck. "But you're _my_ bossy fucker... and I do trust you... I'm so glad I listened, even if I was a nightmare to deal with. Sorry about shooting the patio furniture. I did warn you..."

 

_"Fuck the furniture. Actually, you could, it's got enough holes in it now. I'll leave a note for housekeeping with some money, and warn them about the glass. I'm sure we would have shiny new chairs soon, but seeing how violent these Englanders get when not kept in check, I think I'll suggest they leave these for a bit. I mean, they still work. And they have extra ventilation, actually quite pleasant against your back._

_You're a marvel, Tiger...._

_Are you up to movement again? Let's put away the food and drag ourselves upstairs... I long to sleep in your arms..."_

_I kiss you and reluctantly get off you. We tidy up the food remnants, put the dishes in the dishwasher, leftovers in the fridge, regularly pausing to stroke an arm, kiss a cheek, slap a bum in passing. I love you so incredibly much..._

_As the last bits have been put away and you have poured us both a last draught of rum and I turn down the lights, I look at you, my heart overflowing with love, and before I realize what I am doing, the song that has been playing around in my head pours out of my mouth..._

_"Maybe I didn't treat you_

_Quite as good as I should have_

_Maybe I didn't love you_

_Quite as often as I could have_

_Little things I should have said and done_

_I just never took the time_

_You were always on my mind -_

_You were always on my mind..."_

 

The mood in the kitchen is warm and cosy as we put food away, kiss, and touch each other. We haven't bothered putting our boxer shorts back on - I know I couldn't stand a barrier between us as we sleep. The rum hits the spot, relaxing me even more as I look around the kitchen with satisfaction ... looking forward to settling into bed with you. As you turn down the lights, I'm bringing the glass up to my mouth to drink the last of my rum when... I hear your voice...

Are you... _singing_ to me??

The glass hovers in mid-air, quite forgotten. My mouth falls opens slightly, and I stare at you in shock.

I know the song... I know what it means...

I had said I didn't want to cry anymore on my day... I had cried enough, I thought...

Tears are streaming down my face as I listen to you sing to me... in the kitchen of our private villa... on our honeymoon in Mexico... 4 days after you returned from the dead for me....

I put the glass down, afraid I'll drop it when you finish.

I gaze at you through my teary eyes, covering my mouth, my shoulders shaking...

 

_You look at me, your mouth open. I sing, sometimes, ditties, pop songs... I might have sung at you before - but I've never sung *_ _for*_ _you. Especially not a song like this - a blatant apology, a confession of love.... all that time._

_I see tears spring from your eyes, and I feel my own start to roll; as I continue you start sobbing in earnest, and my own voice is shaky as I intone the lines that I've been thinking, feeling... I struggle to keep going, my throat constricting, but I need to continue, need to pour out my heart to you... you need to know... And words can only say so much, but music makes you feel the truth..._

_"Maybe I didn't hold you_

_All those lonely, lonely times_

_And I guess I never told you_

_I'm so happy that you're mine_

_If I made you feel second best_

_Seb, I'm so sorry I was blind_

_You were always on my mind_

_You were always on my mind"_

_My tears are flowing freely now, and you are shaking with sobs, and I'm not going to be able to finish the entire thing, but I need to do this bit, I need to..._

_"Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died_

_Give me, give me one more chance_

_To keep you satisfied,_

_Satisfied..."_

 

I'm moving towards you slowly before I even know what I'm doing... by the time I reach you, I don't know if you intend to keep singing until the end... but I'm beside myself, and I... need you.... and I'm sobbing when I reach out to you... and I don't think you could sing anymore now... and we're collapsing against each other, and sliding to the floor, clinging to other for dear life... "oh god... Jim..."

 

 

_I can't any more - you're sobbing, I'm sobbing, with shoulders shaking and sounds and everything, I can't sing any more, so I half-whisper, half-sob, "You were always- on my mind..."_

_And then all we both can do is sob, clinging to each other, on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor._

 

 

You're half-sitting in my lap, and I pull you fully onto me so we're facing each other. I'm holding your face in my hands. "Little fucker... did you just go and make it better? Did you just heal my heart?"

I fall against you, and cry so hard....feeling your body against mine - both of us wracked with sobs.

 

 

_I - did?! I can't have - I can't - I'm a destroyer, not a fixer - I nearly destroyed you - am just... explaining... everything...._

_The longer I am in this situation, this - having feelings thing, the more I realize that feelings were there all along - I just refused to acknowledge them. I built a solid stainless steel bunker all around them, absolutely refusing to even admit to the existence of said bunker. Wow, I'm fucked up..._

_And now, slowly, I'm sort of - retroactively feeling. Situations from the past shoot back, and I feel what I should have felt back then. Which is why there is *_ _so much*_ _guilt... Which I'll have to live with... But also so much love... god I loved you so much, all along... I had no idea, no idea... What a total fuckwit..._

_I hold you, my sobbing love, in my arms, shaking with my own crying..._

_"I - if I could, Sebastian, if I could heal your heart, I would, I would do anything... I love you... I have always loved you... "_

 

 

"No - you did -" I protest, my voice shaking.

"I just so badly needed to believe..." I whisper, caressing your tear-streaked face. "that on some level you had feelings for me... You're saying you... did?"

You nod, crying. My arms tighten around you as I weep. I think back to the four years we spent together (but not together) - It feels like I'll have to go back to the beginning again, to see with fresh eyes.

For now, your words are enough to set my heart aglow.

"You _are_ healing my heart," I say in a low voice, through my tears, "Trust me..."

As we hold each other and our crying slowly subsides, I look around and realize we're still on the floor. I stand, lifting you up, and walk.... your legs wrapped around my waist, arms around my neck, you making a contented sound in your throat. You protest when we reach the stairs. I give you an incredulous look as I ascend easily. "I was born for this," I say, glowing. It feels so true...

When we get to the bedroom, I lay you down gently on the bed. You pull me down to you, and we wrap around each other like sleepy serpents. I pull sheets over us, tucking us in gently…

My hands are on your face. "That... was one of the most beautiful, romantic things I've experienced in these past four days, and… that's saying a lot." I kiss your lips. "I have no words for what that meant to me..."

 

_You're lifting me up and it feels so nice, to be carried in your strong arms. I don't want you to carry me up the stairs - it's been a long and heavy day for you, and I'm perfectly capable of walking - but you barely pause, looking at me with love and pride - 'I was born for this.'_

_And - you're right. You *_ _were*_ _born for this. For me. To carry me through the world. To protect me, to serve me, to love me, to hold me, to keep me sane. Well. Sane-ish. To make the hostile chaos that my mind can be slightly less overwhelming._

_In bed, safely wrapped in your arms, snuggled up in a dark corner of the night, I repeat my assurance. This is of great importance to you and if it helps you, I'll repeat it every day in every way if need be... "If I'd have had feelings for *_ _anyone*_ _, it would have been for you. But - I am a psychopath, unable of feeling. Everyone knew this, including me and you. So - end of story, case closed._

_Except - looking back at it, I see things - I almost relive certain moments, but with the feelings that should have been there - no - that *_ _were*_ _there, but - blocked off._

_You know how I can block off pain, physical pain? Just - shut it in an isolated compartment and ignore it? That's what I did with emotions too - except it wasn't a conscious decision - or maybe it was at one point, when I started, I can't recall; it was such a confusing chaotic time... and it just became a constant practice, they were never let out, and I never looked inside the compartment, and I pushed away the memory of the compartment ever existing in the first place…_

_So I had this sort of... shut off part of me where feelings were immediately deported to if they came up, without me even noticing that it happened. I was blissfully unaware of having any emotions, whilst the pressure inside the bunker built and built.... and then you breached the hull, and out they came. Fortunately not in one big explosion - that would have killed me... But I'm slowly seeing more and more of them, and it's overwhelming sometimes - especially the guilt... but... also the love..._

_Yes, at the start I felt just lust for you, and admiration for your skill, but as you got closer, and we spent more time together... this infatuation started, and then I just loved you... but I never noticed. Never allowed myself to notice. I had glimpses - when I was worried, when you got hurt, when we had particularly spectacular sex and I was weakened by orgasm - but I cracked down on those with extreme harshness. Often cracked down on you in reaction as well…_

_We are incredibly, incredibly fucked up Sebastian. But – I’m less fucked up than I thought. Or more, depending on your point of view. But yes – I am a psychopath, but I *_ _do*_ _have feelings, and always have. I just didn’t notice. Until your feelings proved too strong to resist any longer._

_Thank you, for saving me, once again. From myself.”_

 

I listen to you speak, holding you, kissing and stroking your hair... my beloved Jim... however hard life has been for me, it must be excruciating for you to deal with a lifetime of feelings, after the life you've lived... and after the fucked up relationship we had. I think we'll be spending a lot of time dealing with your feelings of guilt, and I'll do my best to relieve you of it because I hate to see you in pain.  
"Well... you saved me too, baby. I would have probably spent the rest of my life not facing my past, carrying those old wounds... and even before now, I was a walking death wish. You gave me something to feel, something to live for... even if it was fucked up. I still loved you. For the first time in my adult life, I loved someone else... he just happened to be an unfeeling psychopath. But I _knew_ there was something there, underneath the surface. I _knew_ … I would catch a glimpse of it, and then it would be gone. But it was _there_...

Part of me feels smug about hearing this," I admit, chuckling. "Like, 'Ha! Fucker! I knew you cared!'... Yes, we're incredibly fucked up," I say wryly, and kiss your forehead. "Thank you for explaining all this - it helps to understand... it helps me let go of a lot of residual angst and anger. It still feels like a long road, but - as long as we're on the road together... I don't care. I don't care if it's hard... as long as I'm with you, Jim..."

I pull you close against my chest, feeling dreamy. Whatever we still have to face can wait... I have my beloved with me. You're all I need. I feel myself slowly drifting off. "I love you, baby," I murmur into your hair. "You're my always..."

 

_... yes, my love... it's going to be hard... especially because all the feelings appear to be coming back in reverse chronological order..._

_It's like the bunker sprung a leak, and things are pouring out, and what went in last is coming out first. So I'm travelling through our relationship now... which is hard enough with the love and the guilt... but the bunker isn't anywhere near empty. There are things there still... from darker times... and I don't know how I'll deal with it if *_ _they*_ _decide to make an appearance..._

 _I told you what happened, my love - I *_ _spoke*_ _\- but that doesn't mean it's finished with. You seem to have dealt with your part much better - you spoke and then roared and screamed and destroyed things and shot stuff and spoke to David, and I *_ _think*_ _you've worked through quite a bit of the grief. You certainly seem to. There will still be things that come up, inevitably, but... you seem to have made peace with your ghost._

_My ghosts... haven't even made an appearance yet, but I can see them there, can see their accusing eyes glowing in the deepest darkest recesses of the bunker. My scream at the ocean, my tears, were just the start - just the recollection, not the processing... nowhere near meeting the ghosts._

_I am far from finished with all the feelings from our relationship, there's so much there, and to think that at some point soon the stream will reach the point where we'll cross the Irish Sea... it makes my stomach churn... is there no way to shut it off again? To just have the feelings from that point? I can deal with the guilt about you, because it comes with the love and the ability to atone, but all that other stuff... I can't... I can't..._

_I find myself shivering despite the warm Mexican night. I want to take the duvet from the floor but I don't dare move... There are shadows in the curtains, in the corners of the room, murmurs from under the bed... Flashes and glimpses when I close my eyes..._

_I move closer to you, but even your body heat cannot warm me. I lie awake, alternating between watching the monsters in the room and the ones behind my eyelids, every muscle in my body tense._

_I'm waiting for the attack, but there's no telling when it will come._

_It takes a long time before I fall into a troubled sleep._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Always On My Mind - Elvis Presley  
> Over - Portishead  
> Angel - Massive Attack  
> Somebody To Love - Jefferson Airplane


	10. I'm Not Going Fucking Anywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter deals with Jim's childhood, which, as expressed before, was not pleasant. Please don't read if you are uncomfortable with references to the topics below. Don't read the topics if you're uncomfortable with spoilers.  
> We will give a summary of this chapter at the start of the next so you will be able to continue reading if you've skipped this chapter.
> 
> \- child abuse  
> \- matricide  
> \- institutionalization  
> \- suicide

My sleep is deep, but I wake up throughout the night to check on you... I'm not sure what's compelling me. The first time, you're shivering. I drape the duvet over you, and the shivering ceases. Another time you're mumbling anxiously in your sleep... I stroke your hair and your back, until the mumbling fades away.

By morning, I'm feeling rested but also... restless... I look over at you, and your sleep is peaceful, although you do have a troubled expression. I slowly pull away from you, watching - you don't wake up. I go to the toilet to have a piss, and on the way back, I notice the blue sky through the windows of our balcony. I pad over to the sliding door, thankfully still intact after yesterday's glass-smashing session. I look at the broken glass on the floor, feeling guilty- I should clean that up. But for now, I just want to be under the open sky... and have a moment to look at the sea. I quietly slide the door open and slip out.

 

_I'm on the ferry. I don't want to be on the ferry, why am I on the ferry? Get me off this bloody thing! I try to find the exit, but can't - I can see Holyhead in the distance through the porthole, I could swim it, I could, if I could only get off this fucking boat... there are stairs but they only lead to more decks with more cars, people sitting inside them looking at me with dead eyes... I throw myself at the side walls, desperate to find a door, a hatch to the top deck... I try to ask people but they all turn away in disgust when they see me._

_I see you leaving through a door on the other side of the car deck, I run across, shouting your name, but you ignore me. When I get to the door, it's closed - it's a lift, and you're in it, and I shout at you through the little window. You look at me, and shake your head, sad, resigned, and the lift goes up... I see your Dropkick Murphys t-shirt, your combat trousers, your scuffed boots... and then blackness._

_I press the button of the lift desperately, waiting for it to come back. There are numbers above the door... 13, 27, 289... how big is this boat... they light up one by one with such speed that I'm worried, you'll be squashed by the gravity if you go up so fast... finally it stops at the final number - 1682 - and comes back down. I wait impatiently, when I realize the deck has gone dark._

_Only the lights from the numbers counting down are visible - everything around me, the cars, the people in them, are lost in the black. And the lift is coming down. And suddenly I'm afraid what will come down with it. Not you. You'll have got out. Something else. Something that's been waiting for me. Waiting for me to leave England. And here I am - in Mexico. No - I'm on the Irish Sea - that's not near Mexico. I'm on my way to Dublin, and I don't want to be, but I'm stuck, and Dublin is on this ferry, and it's coming down in that lift... and I want to run, and I turn around, but my feet move so slowly, and I try to scream, but my throat won't work... And the lift is getting lower and lower and I can hear the roar of what's inside and it must have already devoured you when you got out, so there is no point in my evading it anyway: I may as well die, but not like this, not in Dublin, let me die in London, in a grand shootout, not here on a car deck..._

_The lift is speeding up and the roar gets deafening and I can hear voices - no - not them -_

_An earshattering shriek wakes me up. I grasp on the nightstand for my gun - where is my gun!?!_

 

I'm watching the waves feeling mesmerized, when I hear it.... a tormented, terrified shriek. My Jim… I throw open the sliding door and tear through. You're leaning over the nightstand, scrambling for … a gun? I rush over, scanning the room. No signs of danger... "Jim... Jim… what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream...?"  I sit next to you, gently place my hands on your shoulders, and you look at me with panic in your eyes.

 

 

_Sebastian - you're here - I jump at you, feel you, you're here, you're real, you're not wearing a fucking Dropkick Murphys t-shirt - there's no lift - but I still hear the voices... I'm shivering, holding onto you, trying to crawl inside you, to hide, to make myself small in your arms - maybe they won't notice me..._

_My teeth are chattering. You take the water bottle I'd knocked onto the floor in my scramble for a gun, unscrew the top, but I'm shivering too much to drink. You've dealt with that before - just hold me, moistening my lips, mumbling into my hair that it's going to be alright, that you got me, that it was just a dream, Jim, just a dream..._

_But it's not. I'm still on that ferry, and Dublin is hurtling towards the breach in the bunker, and I don't know how to stop it..._

 

 

"You're safe... it was just a dream, baby... I'm right here..." I soothe, kissing your hair. "Do you - want to tell me?"

 

 

_... yes._

_Yes, I find I do. Somehow - it's frightening, like it'll bring them closer, but - if I can keep you here - you can help me. Protect me - somehow._

_How can I explain? Well first of all I'll have to be capable of speech.... I wait until the shivering subsides enough to allow me to drink, gulp the water down. My stomach protests - I have a moment of panic, just manage to hurl myself off the bed, when it all comes back out._

_I'm on my hands and knees on the floor, you hold your hand on my back as the remnants of last night's dinner and rum brutally force their way up my oesophagus and onto the floor of our bedroom - fortunately wood._

_I keep throwing up until nothing comes out any more but my stomach still spasms, sending waves of bitter bile up. My eyes are streaming, my nose leaking, god, you won't have a problem foregoing sex this morning..._

_Finally my stomach stops its assault and I take the water you give me, rinse my mouth and spit in a cup, then drink a tiny amount very carefully._

_Well. It seems reasonable to assume that my body is not happy with the prospect of facing my ghosts and is trying to expunge them another way..._

 

 

I've seen you in varying states of distress, including after nightmares.... I've seen you go to depths I've never imagined these past few days... but I've never seen this. And I don't know what that will mean for where you're heading... I focus on stroking your back, and then I pull you gently up to sit on the bed.

"Jim..." I say quietly. "Let's go downstairs. I'll take care of this in a bit. Are you OK with the living room, or... would you rather go outside?"

 

 

_“I... outside I think. But - let me have a shower first, brush my teeth...”_

_I get up, walk to the shower - stop._

_“Will you - come with me, please?”_

 

 

"Of course, baby... " I follow you to the bathroom.

In the shower, you're quiet. You let me wash your hair and your back, and you seem soothed by my touch. But there's still something that's causing you... fear? distress?

We brush our teeth, and head downstairs. I make us cups of tea, and take your hand to walk with you outside. When we step out onto the patio, we stand holding our tea cups and staring at the lounge chairs riddled with bullet holes. I catch your eye with a wry smile, and mouth _sorry_ at you. You sit down with your cup in your hands, staring blankly. I pull a chair close to yours, rest my hand on your knee, and wait.

 

 

_My tea has lots of sugar in it, and I sip it slowly. Such a British concept - tea solves any emotional turmoil..._

_I'm glad of your hand on my knee, but want to be closer - I get up, take your hand and walk to our nest, nearer the sea - inviting and friendly blue, rather than the threatening grey of the Irish Sea in my dream. We don't have the cushions, but we can sit on the towels in the sand, close together, near the calming sound of the waves. People record this onto CDs to soothe them - I can see the point. Though it didn't help last night... I shiver again. You look at me concerned. I really should start talking, I guess..._

_"The bunker... You breached it, and feelings came out. Which is all good - I want this, I want to love you - I never want to lose that. And - I can deal with the guilt that comes with it. But - now the hole is open, I don't know how to close it. So that means - other feelings - from before..."_

_My throat closes as I picture the shapes moving in the dark, moving closer, ready to come out and tear me apart._

_"They're... coming... and I can't stop them..."_

 

 

"OK...listen to me..." I take your face in my hands. "If there are feelings coming, we'll take them as they come. You don't need to face everything at once, or do this on your own. It makes sense that there would be more - I guess we just started?" I shake my head. "I - didn't really think about that, actually... I don't know how this works, but I guess we're getting a crash course. Anyway... everything we did was a beginning. Right?" I ask, trying to keep desperation from leaking into my voice. Jesus, I really didn't think about this at all... Does this mean- _I_ have more to do? _Shit_... but not now. "So - we'll just continue, then... and - after you'll feel better, like you did last time..." I'm nodding at you reassuringly, and stroking your face. I sound confident, don't I?? Fuck, I hope I don't sound like I'm panicking…

 

 

_My brave Tiger. You have a great pokerface - but it doesn't work when you're speaking with me. Somehow, seeing you freak out makes me feel a bit better - somehow seeing you in distress pulls me together._

_"I think you may have dealt with stuff better than me - you unleashed quite a bit straight after. I - talked about everything, and screamed - but then hid in sex with you. I told the story - but I didn't feel the feelings. And - I kept the love under wraps for years, and am feeling it now - that means - all the feelings I felt from when I stopped feeling - when Mam died... are coming too... and I'm terrified, Sebastian... I'm so fucking scared...._

_I dreamed I was on a ferry to Dublin. I was desperate to get off, but couldn't. And that's what happening. I'm moving back to the feelings I should have had in Dublin. Starting with the final act of Ireland's cruelty to me - my brother's death... I can feel it - I can see it inside me. He's coming to the hole in the bunker. I can see his eyes - accusing... and I've been having nightmares for years... even when I wasn't feeling. How am I going to survive feeling his death? The sadness - the loneliness - the guilt - I feel shattered by guilt over you - but you were an adult, and have survived... He... I betrayed him... I might as well have killed him myself... Would have been kinder... faster..."_

_He's coming... Not like your David from the sea, but from the dark tar pit inside me..._

 

 

"It makes sense, Jim... my shit happened when I was fifteen. Yours happened younger... And... my father may have been a monster, but he was a negligent monster. My mother looked out for me, in her way... I had an OK childhood. Yours had abuse, and it affected you on a much deeper level... So sure, you could say I handled things all right yesterday after I shot up the patio. But it was a completely different situation. Maybe it's safer for you to do it in stages, anyway- hide in sex or whatever you need, until you get it done... you told the story, now you fill it in with feelings...as gradually as you need." I squeeze your shoulder gently. "As for your brother... I don't know, but isn't it possible these feelings are your fears, like they were mine? And if not... I'm here with you, and I'm not going fucking anywhere. We'll get this done, one way or another..." My jaw sets. I don't know what threatens you, but I won't allow you to be hurt... _I won't…_

 

 

 

_"Georgie died when I was fifteen... I... he was scared sometimes as a kiddie, dad could be violent when he had drink in him, and I promised him, I solemnly promised him, that I'd always take care of him. So I killed his mother, and left him alone to kill himself. I hurt him, I betrayed him, I left him alone..."_

_There are no ghosts, Tiger. What you spoke to yesterday was your subconscious taking the shape of David, you telling yourself that you did nothing wrong, that you were forgiven, because you knew, deep down, but you wouldn't allow yourself to think so consciously, because it would feel like a betrayal._

_My subconscious won't be so nice..._

_Every time I close my eyes I see the shape getting nearer the hole in the bunker inside my mind. Flashes of light reflect in his hazel eyes, on his pale face, from the blood streaming steadily out of the gashes in his wrists._

_I start shivering despite the warm morning sun._

 

 

 

"Jim, you were a kid yourself when you made that promise... a wounded, abused kid... and I'd call the circumstances pretty fucking extenuating. You did what you needed to protect him, and then repercussions caught up with you and what more could you do?? It's not like you just decided you'd had enough and left him... the system caught up with you. How much do you expect of yourself, baby? I don't for one moment think you betrayed him... " I stare at you intently. "Not. One."

 

 

_"I knew exactly what I was promising. I shouldn't have killed Mam. I should have saved him some other way. Or - got us out safely first. I was impulsive, acted out of rage, didn't think - walked out of the house covered in blood - of course I was going to get caught, and Georgie too... I fucked up and I know you're going to say I was just a kid Seb, but I wasn't. I've never been a kid. I was smarter when I was five than most adults... I should have known better than to let rage overwhelm me."_

_Georgie thinks so too... he's getting ready to climb through the hole, looking at me with empty, accusing eyes..._

 

 

"Jim, I should have done a lot of things differently too, but I didn't. I _didn't_ know better - that's the point. Hindsight isn't what determines your level of guilt." My brow furrows. "If it is, then I'm culpable in the death of someone I loved, too. That's _not_ what you said yesterday... And you may have not felt like a kid mentally, but... emotionally? You can't expect a child to..." I break off and look at you for a moment. " I think it's important to see the big picture here. Should you have known better? Babe... you're _not_ infallible. You're allowed to make mistakes. And sometimes mistakes have terrible outcomes - I know that all too well. But torturing yourself about it for the rest of your life is not the answer... I can't believe that is ever the answer..." I squeeze your hand hard.

 

 

_You're sweet, Tiger, but I am infallible. Or - should be. I know I wasn't with you - and that's where all the guilt comes in. If I weren't infallible, I couldn't maintain my empire... I can't drop a single stitch or the web unravels. And - society disagrees with you too. You can't say that killing your mam was just a mistake and you were a kid - they're still going to lock you up and prod your brain._

_Hi Georgie... I miss you so much... Of course, that's another emotion... I wasn't expecting that one, and it hits so hard... I'm looking at the sea unseeingly, eyes streaming, as I look at my dead brother inside my mind..._

 

 

I watch you closely. You seem unconvinced, and I have no idea how to reach you. But right now, you're in your own world, your eyes unfocused, and then leaking tears... Is this what I looked like? Are you seeing your ghost? Or the lost brother in your mind? I take a shaky breath, as I watch you go where I can't be ahead of you to shield you. I know that... but I'll be here one step behind you all the way, baby...

 

 

_I feel you close in the small part of my mind that's still conscious of the outside world, and I move back towards you - you get it, you put your arms around me and hold me close as I'm facing my inner demons - or - the first one, at least... and the worst, in a way..._

_"Georgie... I'm so sorry... I loved you so much, love you so much... You were the one person I loved most, always - I wanted to protect you - I am so sorry I failed..."_

_He's just proceeding towards me, not speaking, shambling like in one of those zombie films... I'm not running. It's Georgie. Whatever happens... I'll take it._

_The missing. The void, sucking like a black hole inside me. That is the first one that hits me, and it's all-consuming. It's the pain of absence, of having a hole in the middle of your body. It's a pain that can't compare with anything else, and that can't be healed, because there isn't anything there to be healed. It's a pain that's made worse by its finality - no matter what I do, I'll never be able to fix this. I can apologize all I want, I can gather all the money and all the power in the world - nothing can bring him back._

_It's impossible to make the pain go away, because the gone away is the pain._

_I groan with the agony, put my arms around my body in an attempt to close or protect the gaping gap where my stomach should be._

 

It feels so much better to be holding you as you face this... I literally have your back.

Christ, it’s unbearably hard to listen to you speak to your ghost... I'm appreciating how difficult it must have been for you yesterday... how powerless it feels... to see the one you love do battle with themselves, and struggle so hard... there's silence for a long while, and then... you're collapsing into yourself, groaning... god, I can feel your torment... it's like a physical presence...  I wince, press my cheek into your back, and hold on for dear life...

 

 

_Something - there is something - Sebastian - Sebastian is here. I have - a lifeline... Something. I won't disappear -_

_"Georgie. I didn't think - I didn't mean for you to be left alone... I am so sorry... I wanted to save you... she was hurting you, I didn't want you to suffer..."_

_His eyes look into mine. His mouth opens. Oh god - I'm hearing his voice - Georgie..._

_"Jimmy?"_

_He sounds so lost -_

_"Jimmy? What happened? Where are you Jimmy? Jimmy I'm scared..."_

_"I'm here - Georgie..."_

 

 

You speak again... your pauses are lengthy... lengthier than mine? So hard to know... I was in a completely different place, to difficult to maintain a sense of objectivity. It sounds like... you've made contact? I'm starting to think my close proximity is as much for my sake as for yours... the feeling of my cheek against your back... the warmth of your skin... the beating of your heart... the feeling of muscle and bone... your softness and hardness against mine... for a moment I wonder where you begin and I end... I close my eyes, and breathe...

 

 

_"Jimmy? Where are you? I'm scared! She's hurting me! Where are you Jimmy?! You said you would protect me! Jimmyyyy... help... help me Jimmy... Jimmy please..."_

_... and there. is. guilt._

_God. I'm being skinned, my nerves carefully separated from my muscles, and the whole set dipped into acid. My whole being is pain, my entire existence a burning hurt. His eyes. His eyes - I'd never seen those eyes in my nightmares, the eyes were always dead or angry, but these eyes are the eyes while it's happening, while he's crying out for me, for his big brother who he trusted to protect him, who'd promised... It's panic, it's pain, he doesn't know what's happening, he is calling on me to save him and I'm not there..._

_... and there's going to be more, isn't there... guilt... yes... there it is..._

_"Jimmy?! What happened? Where is Mammy? Jimmy!? Don't - don't take Jimmy away!! Give him back! Mammy! Mammy!!! They're taking Jimmy! MAMMY!!!"_

_... the last time I ever heard your voice... you were crying out for the mother I'd just killed... you didn't know... oh god..._

_I moan, scratch the skin on my sides, my belly... this... I can't... so much pain... I cannot bear it. Anything... anything to make it stop... please... Georgie..._

 

 

 

Silence... such lengthy silence...

warm skin...

beating hearts...

And then, moaning... scratching your precious skin... oh, Jim...

Be here... be right here... you can do that, Seb... you can do that, soldier...

But it was so hard the first time, to see you this way... such pain... so much pain... what causes someone to build a bunker around their emotions so they'll never feel again...??

…

oh god...  Jim...

…

that's where you're going...

 

 

 

_"GEORGIE!!! I'm right here! I am so SO sorry... Georgie... please... look at me..."_

_He turns, looks at me... He looks older here... this must have been around the time of his death, when he was the teenager I never got to see._

_He looks down again, focusing intently at a piece of paper, on which his boyish hand is scrawling with a purple pen. I read the lines as they're being written -_

_"Jimmy. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. I wish they'd let me see you - but they said I shouldn't, that it would be bad for me. I wasn't even allowed to know where you were. If I'd known, I'd have come to see you, Jimmy, I swear. I hope you don't think I don't want to see you, I hope you don't think I hate you - because I don't. You were the only one in my entire life who ever loved me, who made me laugh, who took me to the park to feed the ducks, who invented games for me... we had such fun, didn't we, Jimmy? Do you remember when we played pirates? You put all the mattresses on top of one another, and me on top, and you were rocking them back and forth like a ship in a storm and I loved that so much, and we would laugh... Mammy got mad when she saw you do it, said you might hurt me, but you never hurt me, you couldn't ever hurt me..._

_I know what happened Jimmy. They said you were mad - I told them you weren't, that you were trying to help me, but they said I was traumatized._

_They said so much shit, Jim - I wish you were there. I sometimes imagined you were there, and giving your sarcastic comments on all they said - it would get me through the endless sessions with child psychologist after child psychologist... I told them I didn't need a psychologist, I needed my brother, but they said I shouldn't ever see you again. You were in a secure facility, and were being treated, and maybe when we were both adults, we could meet again..._

_Dad got in touch once. Mrs Parker thought it would be good for me to meet him. I didn't know - I didn't remember him, except from what you and Mam had said; I wasn't too eager to meet him - he looked old, and sad, and said he was sorry, and that he knew that Mam and you were no good, and I didn't say anything - like you'd told me, if you don't say anything, people get nervous, and tell you what they don't want to say. He said he never wanted either of us, or Mam, and that it was all a shambles. He never came back since._

_Jimmy, I know they'll never let you out; they explained to me, you are mentally sick, and you may never be let out into the world again, and they’ll not let me see you, but I hope that if they find this letter they’ll give it to you._

_It’s not your fault. None of it is. You tried everything you could to protect me, and you couldn’t, and you tried to save me, and I am so sorry that you ended up suffering for it._

_I know you’ll be sad when they tell you, so I want you to know, that it’s good – I have been so sad, in so much pain, for so long, and I am just so tired – I am sorry Jimmy, but I know you love me, and I know you wouldn’t want me to live in pain… The pain isn’t your fault, my sweet big brother… you tried to save me, I know, you did what you could, and I love you so much, and I wish I could tell you. The pain is the fault of others, and of my own brain… Mrs. Parker says I should take medication, but I just want to sleep…_

_I know I will see you again, in the next world. Until then, my sweet brother, please have my neverending love, my thanks for trying to look after me in such a hostile world, for trying to save me the only way you could, for giving me the only positive memories I have, for being the very best big brother one could have._

_Love isn’t measured in time. You gave me more love in the years we were together than most people get in a lifetime._

_I love you, Jimmy._

_Please forgive me. See you soon._

_Georgie.”_

_I’m sobbing, shaking, tears dripping into the sand – keening, wailing – but it’s no longer tearing me apart; I’m mourning, mourning the loss of my little baby brother, the most beautiful child I’d ever seen, the one person I’d loved most in the whole wide world – but I’m mourning. I’m not dying. Not any more._

_God, thank you Georgie. My Georgie._

 

You're calling out for your brother, screaming his name, pleading...

And then, just as abruptly...

Silence.

As much as it's torment to hear you suffer...

Not knowing what's happening...

Not knowing what you're feeling...

Not knowing what you're seeing...

I don't know what to do...

_IDon'tKnowIDon'tKnow... WhatDoIDo..._

I can't do anything at all, except hold you, breathe, remain silent and still as a statue...

…

The silence lasts so long...

…

So long...

 

…

 

 

And then...

Sobs.

Tears.

Shaking.

Wailing.

On such a primal level... for all we've cried over these four long days... now we're getting closer to the bottom- of that deep, dark well inside you, covered over and closed off for a lifetime...

i don't comfort you with words yet...as much as I long to...

I must be a silent sentry and hold the line... hold this space...

For you, Jim...

I hold you and breathe...

Just breathe...

Just breathe...

 

 

 

_SO much pain... but it's a different pain than before. The missing is still there but the cutting biting guilt has eased off._

_I never thought - I couldn't possibly imagine that my subconscious would forgive me. And - part of me is feeling guilty about that, about tricking myself into thinking that I'm worthy of forgiveness, but it felt so real - can I hold on to the illusion that it was real, that that was the letter that Georgie wrote to me, that he did forgive me?_

_It doesn't really make a difference, does it? It doesn't make a difference to Georgie - he's dead (PAIN!!!). The only difference it makes is to me - whether I'm going to cripple myself with guilt for the rest of my life, or allow myself to move on from it. It feels like yet another betrayal to Georgie - but how does it serve him if I'm living my life wrecked with guilt? That would be very Catholic of me, but that wouldn't help Georgie one bit... If Georgie were still a sentient entity in some form, he'd want me to live, rather than spend the rest of my life avenging his death on myself... He never was vindictive, that was my job..._

_And he's there again, looking up from his letter, smiling, waiting for me to finish my ruminations. "Go out there, Jimmy. Live the life you were meant to. I'm fine - I'm at peace, finally. You be, too. I love you Jimmy. Always. Take my fucking word for it, you eedyit. Now go and talk to your husband - poor guy's worried sick. He's nice - I'm glad I finally got a brother-in-law, someone to look after you. You need that, Jimmy... He's sound, he'll protect you - from yourself more than anything. Listen to the guy, he makes sense. Stop beating yourself up - if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me and for him. It hurts both of us to see you hurting... Promise me that, Jimmy."_

_"I'll try..." I whisper._

 

 

I hold you and breathe...

I will hold the line until the end of time if I have to...

There is only you on the beach, and nothing else in the world...

Hold...

Hold...

the crying and shaking continues for a good long while... and slowly... slowly.... begins to subside..

You're quiet... I hear sniffling and breathing in and out...

Your shaking has shifted to shivering...

I close my eyes as I press against your back, wishing I had a blanket for you, willing myself to pour my heat into you...

You whisper "I'll try..." and my eyes fly open.

I remain silent, but I move my hand across your shoulder, just a little ... just so you know on some level that you're safe and you're loved, no matter what you face...

I'm always here for you, Jim...  Always...

 

 

 

_Yes, your brother-in-law... He's amazing, Georgie... I wish you could have met him, you would have loved him... He'd make you laugh so much... He even makes me laugh and I'm the biggest sourpuss in London... Or was..._

_I feel your hand on my shoulder, you're literally having my back, aren't you, Tiger... always..._

_I open my eyes, slowly, blinking against the sunlight on the water. I assess the situation - body feels tense and tired from the shaking and shivering. Still a bit cold - I should get into the sun. Head hurts. Nose blocked from crying, eyes puffy. Scratches in my belly. Stomach hurting - appears the centre of emotional pain._

_And the mind? ... some white noise. Confused. Tired. But - seems positive that some good changes have been implemented._

_Emotions? RAW... but - sane? Is that the word? Healthy? No longer destroying me. Hurting, yes - I lost my baby brother, of course it hurts. But the guilt - seems less. Oh, thank god._

_Surroundings - Tiger. Worried. Determined to be strong. Sentry. Caring. Love._

_I grab the edge of a towel, wipe my eyes and nose, turn to you. "That was... he was... forgiving. Like your one... I'd never expected..."_

_You grab me close, hold me against your chest, stroke my hair._

_"He called you his brother-in-law, said he liked you, was happy I had someone to look after me, and that I should stop beating myself up, because it hurt both you and him... He's right..."_

_I stand up. The water again - water seems the solution to all my emotional turmoils. I can understand it's harder for you, but... I need to wash away the guilt. Fuck's sake, bloody Catholicism again. Oh well._

_You walk with me as I walk into the waves, my eyes small to ease the hurt of the light on the water, doing the same thing as two days ago... washing everything away... it really feels like an effective ritual..._

 

 

 

When you turn to me and speak, I almost sob with relief- but no. No... I must remain strong for Jim.

But there are tears in my eyes when I hear that you feel forgiven by your beloved brother. I was so afraid that you wouldn't be able to accept it- that you would be plunged into hell, and me alongside you. Because there's no where I won't go to keep you safe... even if I have to descend where goddamn angels fear to tread...

My _brother-in-law_ … more tears spring to my eyes. I'll never meet him... but I'm so glad he's the forgiving kind. I'm guessing I would have liked him...

And now I'm walking with you back to the sea... even thought it's a conflicted relationship for me, there's something about how the water has been a source of healing for us both. I scoop up handfuls of briny water, and pour them over your back, your arms, your hair... gently moving my hands over your beautiful skin...

I wash you... waiting for you to feel your cleansing ritual is complete.

 

 

_My lovely Tiger - you are trying so hard to remain strong. It must have been so difficult for you - seeing me suffer is so hard on you... not being able to protect me, when that's your raison d'être..._

_When I feel I am as clean as I'm going to be, we walk back to the beach. I lie down in the sun to dry - you suggest moving the umbrella, but I ask you not to - I am still cold, want the rays of the sun to heat me up, to shine into the dark space in the centre of my body and maybe warm it up and shine some light in there... it's so cold, dark, dank..._

_I close my eyes and feel you move away - I reach out to you, but you mumble 'one second' and are indeed back within a second, so it's alright, and you rub sunscreen on me... oh my beautiful loving caring Tiger..._

_I realize I could do anything, could faint, could release all consciousness, all control, and I'd still be alright, because you would make sure I was looked after as best as could possibly be. I realize I am safe with you, completely safe, so much safer than alone, or with anyone else, and that is such an immense gift, Tiger..._

_And as the sun warms the black hole in my body, so do you... a little warm spot glows on the edge of the cold black space, a spot that if I leave it long enough may dry out and warm up the cold damp black void... I've been so afraid for so long to face this place, but - it's hurt, of course it is, it's pain and absence and missing... but it's not as terrifying any more. I can look at it without wincing._

_I move onto my side, move my chest against yours - you hold me close, I feel your heart beat against mine, and the black space feels a little less agonizing with your warmth and love touching it._

_I can't express, but you instinctively understand, as always, and you hold me close, hold me in the heat of the sun and the heat of your embrace, and slowly, very slowly, I begin to warm up._

 

 

There are so few words...

I'm here if you need me- for anything - and that's all I can do. Be Here. Be Present. I have to trust that this is enough...

I sense peace within you... tenuous... delicate... fragile... but peace. I still sense deep wounds - some in the process of healing, some that likely will never be... and maybe that's enough...maybe that's all we can hope for?

I lie in the sun with you, after coating you with sunscreen. In the circle of my arms, you mostly lie quietly with closed eyes. Once in a while, they open briefly to look at me... as if to check I'm still there.

Once my vigilance and anxiety loosen their iron grip, my own thoughts and feelings come trickling to the surface.

I'm exhausted...

I'm afraid...

I'm tired of crying...

I want to cry for days...

I'm so tired of pain...

…

I want more of those enchiladas from yesterday...

I want to hurt people and break things...

I want to make love with you for hours....

I want to restrain you again, fuck you so hard until you’re screaming my name…

I want to drink whisky untiI I pass out...

I want to hide in bed and not leave the villa for days...

…

And if I go deeper...

I feel so relieved...

I feel so honoured...

I feel so in love...

I feel all these feelings streaming through me as I watch the waves, feel the heat of the sun on my skin, and hold you like the most precious, fragile, beautiful thing I have ever seen...

 

 

_There is turmoil inside me but also peace... It's a weird sensation. I'm completely shaken, wrung out, my brain is in confusion, my stomach feels like I've been punched repeatedly and there's a feeling of desperation - but also a sense that things are better than they were, that the 21-year-old torture has somehow peaked, but is now coming to a solution... Georgie's face in my mind, him smiling, at peace with his decision, so different from the haunting spectre that originally climbed out of the bunker and which has been haunting my nightmares for years... I think there may be fewer nightmares in the future. Or at least - fewer about Georgie. There are spectres still in the bunker... but less scary ones. I think I can deal with them when they come... It'll be hard but if I survived this..._

_And it hits me - I have. I have survived. I have faced my worst nightmare and I am still alive. I am lying on a beach in the sun with the love of my life, who is holding me so closely and so delicately and so patiently... My Sebastian._

_"Get me my phone."_

_You look at me puzzled, but don't question - you go inside and come back with my phone. I text Mr. Álvarez. You ask if it's OK if you go and get some food - can I eat anything? Some toast and tea? I say that I think that's alright, as my text alert sounds. You walk off to get breakfast and I have a quick phone conversation with a surprised, initially hesitant, then elated Mr. Álvarez. I agree we'll sort everything out via email and bank transfers, no need for him to come over with paperwork - I really don't want anyone intruding on us._

 

_You come back with a tray with some buttered and unbuttered toast and some marmalade, and two cups of tea, set it in the sand._

_I look at you and see your look - you can tell I'm planning something and you're not sure if you should be happy or wary - wise, considering..._

_"Can you get a bottle of champagne from the fridge, and two glasses, too, Tiger?"_

_You look at me, trying to assess what's going on, but you're happy enough that I seem to be feeling happier, so you just say "Sure," and go and collect them. At my nod, you pop off the cork and pour us both a flute of the fizzy liquid, then look at me with a mixture of expectancy and apprehension on your face - you've learnt to not always trust my celebratory surprises... but you're pretty sure I wouldn't do anything horrid at this point... pretty sure..._

_I clink my glass against yours. "Since you seem determined to wreck the place and I fear the wrath of Mrs. Álvarez, I decided to follow the old Pottery Barn rule – if you break it, you own it.”_

_I nod towards the villa. “Casa La Guarida del Tigre – it’s yours. My wedding present to you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> The Rocky Road to Dublin - Dropkick Murphys  
> Let It Die - Starset  
> Coming Down - Five Finger Death Punch  
> 3 Ways to See Despair - Manic Street Preachers


	11. Mother of All My Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you've skipped the last chapter, here's a summary:  
> Jim has a nightmare and realizes his traumatic memories are arising from his psyche. Jim and Seb return to their nest on the beach, where Jim talks about his dream, and expresses that he's afraid to confront the memory of his brother Georgie.  
> Jim faces his very intense fears about Georgie accusing him of abandonment after Jim killed their mother so she wouldn't abuse Georgie anymore. Jim has a heart-lifting encounter in his psyche, in which Georgie gives him the letter Jim never received - it is loving, forgiving and beautiful. Jim has an intense emotional release on the beach, and then goes into the sea to cleanse himself. Seb is with him every step of the way, in love and support. Jim makes a call to M. Alvarez, and asks Sebastian to bring champagne.  
> This chapter starts with Jim informing Seb he has bought the Mexican villa for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter deals with Jim's childhood, which, as expressed before, was not pleasant. Please don't read if you are uncomfortable with references to the topics below. Don't read the topics if you're uncomfortable with spoilers.  
> We will give a summary of this chapter at the start of the next so you will be able to continue reading if you've skipped this chapter.  
> \- childhood sexual abuse, incest  
> \- matricide (descriptive)  
> \- suicide  
> \- Nazi street gangs  
> \- underage sex work  
> \- PTSD flashback of rape (descriptive)

I look from you to the villa, and back to you. I think I must be blinking and gawping like an idiot, but I can't be sure.

"Casa La- what? You _bought_ it??" I'm stunned. "You bought us a villa in Mexico..."

You look pointedly at my glass and I raise it to my lips, draining it in shock. You're sipping yours and looking at me expectantly.

A smile slowly spreads across my face. "Seriously??"

 

 

_"Guarida del Tigre - the Tiger's Den," I translate, looking at you - you seem to like it, good... I know it's a cheap cop-out, a strategy employed by negligent parents and spouses alike, to buy expensive stuff to show affection... but this is not just an expensive gift, it's also powerfully symbolic. I hope you see it like that..._

_"We can go anywhere we like, Tiger. But this place - I like it. It's special to us and it seems sacrilegious to let other people into it after we leave. It's a place where both of us faced our demons and lived, where we have come together so much more... I want to honour that. And honour you. Because - you're the greatest person on the planet and deserve whatever makes you happy."_

" _You're_ what makes me happy," I put my glass down in the sand, and squeeze you long and hard. I look back at the villa. "So, we can just come back to Mexico whenever we want?" I turn back and cover your face with kisses. "I'm... floored. It's amazing... You're amazing. Other than you... it's the best thing you could have given me... Somehow - going back to London feels less scary if I know this place is ours. Casa La Guarida... del Tigre?" I laugh, pressing a kiss into your shoulder. "Maybe our new apartment in London should be called Lair of the Kitten..."

 

 

_“You do seem to keep forgetting that I’m way more dangerous than you. It should be called the Spider’s Web.... but then the whole world is my web,” I argue lazily. I’m so glad I got it right - that you’re so happy with the gift -_

_“Like I said, we can go anywhere... we could do a world tour before going back to London. Check all corners of the web before we return to the centre... but we’re not moving from here any time soon. We’re way too raw. Surely a honeymoon should last as long as needed for both spouses to recover from the devastating effects of love...”_

_I nibble on the buttered toast - it seems to go down well, which is good. A sip of tea, followed by champagne - breakfast of kings._

 

 

"My darling psychopath... I have never once forgotten you're more dangerous than anyone, me included," I say, munching toast. I watch you as you eat like a bird... at least there's a little something in your stomach now. Maybe I can get you to eat some soup in a bit.

"The devastating effects of love... yeah, you're not kidding. There seems to be no end in sight to our heavy artillery, huh babe? Trust me, I'm still in no hurry to leave... especially now that it's fucking _ours_...(seriously??) but seeing other places sounds amazing. Whenever I've travelled, it's always been work, work, work - deliver this thing, blow up that place, shoot this guy... and now that guy... hey, now that other guy is getting away...  the usual. Travelling with you sounds like a dream..." I close my eyes, revelling in the hot sun on my skin, the sound of the waves... knowing this place belongs to us makes it that much sweeter, and I side my arm around your shoulder.

 

_"You *have* travelled with me," I protest. "Some light assassination in between casino and hotel is surely not that much of a hardship?" I see your face. "OK, OK... look... I didn't grow up in a holidaying environment, did I. We went to Howth once or twice when Mam was with Ian, but it was day trips. And then when I was an adult... I just worked, because that's what I did. And rightfully so - I mean, look at what happens when we go on a non-working holiday..." I gesture at the holey sun loungers, a shot coconut. "And Tuscany... God, I hate Tuscany. I don't know about you, but I find this holiday lark much harder than work..."_

_I sip some more sugary tea, happy that my stomach seems alright with holding it in, sip some more champagne._

_"I'm... really exhausted from all this holidaying, actually..." I say. "Would you be up for a nap? Or - I could sleep here while you sunbathe or something. I - would rather not be alone..."_

 

 

"A nap sounds great..." I kiss your forehead. "Would I leave you alone after everything you went through? Let's just finish our breakfast... because I suspect we may be napping for a while..."

We sit in the sand facing the waves, leaning against each other, munching toast, sipping tea...

"To be fair, babe- it's not holidaying that's to blame for feeling wrung out and exhausted... most people don't do brutal therapy on their holidays and emotionally eviscerate themselves...” I smile at you wryly.  "Heaven help the clients of Moriartys Consulting Criminals, Chamomile and Counselling Services... they'll feel much better when they're _done_... but _during_ is like a rollercoaster ride through Hell. In fact, feel free to use that in the advertising... ‘A Rollercoaster Ride Through Hell’… It has a nice summery, holiday vibe." I squeeze your shoulder, and my heart lifts when I see you smile.

 

 

_You’re sweet, my Tiger... I’m so glad you’re here, because I’m feeling really raw and scared. That’s another feeling I could have done without... bloody fear. I really am regressing... I’m sorry Tiger, there are some more repressed emotions to come... and it looks like fear as an emotion, rather than fear of emotions, is going to be next... god, I hate that one..._

_If we’re lucky we may be able to have a nap first. Gather some strength..._

_You clean up the breakfast stuff; I have another cup of weak sugary tea in the kitchen, then we go upstairs. I open the curtains - I’d rather have the light in the room. I’m sure light levels won’t make a difference in sleep quality..._

_I should probably warn you..._

_“I’m sorry, Tiger. I’m... not done. The bunker isn’t empty and... more stuff is coming. I’m not sure what... and I hope we get some respite - but... a nightmare is likely. I feel... fear. I’m sorry - I know it’s an emotion that’s rather alien to you - but I’m entering early teenage years area, I guess - when I didn’t feel fear, because I didn’t feel anything, and now I have to feel what I didn’t feel then. Or something. It probably has some sort of psychological explanation - but I don’t know... all I can do is go with it and hope that that will be it... but I’m sorry you’re getting caught in the storm.”_

I take your face in my hands. "You do not have to apologize to me... I want you to be well, and not held prisoner by your past, or anything inside you. I want you to be free of torment. And you're doing this for us... I had to be forced to face my demons... but you knew it's what we needed.  You're so fucking brave and beautiful and amazing... and I'll be with you every step of the way. I won't leave you alone. And if it's somewhere I can't go, like a dream... know that I'm waiting for you on the other side." I caress your cheek, and gaze into your eyes intently. "So, don't worry about this being hard. I made vows, and I didn't expect this to be easy... given who we are. We dwell in darkness... we _are_ the darkness... so sometimes we'll go to places that are terrifying and awful... and all there is to do is weather the storm. And if one of us is doing it, the other one holds the fucking line." I pull you into a hug and hold you. _My poor, brave Jim... it's so hard to see you going through this…_

Over your shoulder, I see the mess on the floor has been cleaned up. I look across the room, and confirm the broken glasses and vase have also been cleared. This housekeeping staff is amazing at keeping their presence discreet... I feel a pang of guilt that I didn't have a chance to clean it up myself. I guess that's an even bigger tip they'll be getting... I make a mental note to use their services when we're staying here, and return my focus to the sad Kitten in my arms.

"I love you," I murmur into your hair. “Always.”

 

 

_"I love you my Sebastian... My Yours... So incredibly brave... I mean, I know you made vows, but... well you hardly knew you were going to have to deal with all this. Neither did I... and I'm so glad you're here. I can't imagine what I would have done if I'd had to face this without you..._

_Mind you, it's all your fault anyway, for making me feel in the first place, so I guess you're only cleaning up your own mess..."_

_I sit down on my side of the bed, freshly made, with a clean pillow - last night's terror sweats removed, ready to absorb today's ones... I'm reasonably calm now, but I know the storm is coming. I just don't know what shape it will take, and I'll be damned if I am going to speculate - let's not invite the demons over._

_I drink the last of my tea, and lie down in your welcoming arms. You hold me closely and gently, like you did on the beach, and I feel myself relax enough to fall asleep - I'm so *fucking* exhausted..._

_I am shivering against a radiator which is scalding my skin but not succeeding in radiating its warmth into my bones. I'm trying to push myself closer into it - I'm so cold - but I'm as flat against it as possible, will just have to wait until the shivering subsides and I may be able to get some sleep. I'm so lucky to have found this place - an empty flat which still has heating, it's a gift from god - if I'd be in a porch I'd never get warm..._

_This is the second time I've been nearly raped - except it wasn't nearly this time. I'm not safe on the streets - I'm fierce, but small, and I don't have the fighting skills - I could deal with the boys in the facility using sheer ferocity, but I'm defenceless against a grown man with a weapon. Fighting only resulted in getting beaten up - so I'm bruised and scraped all over, still got raped, and still got no money._

_I will need to do as the other kids do - band together. I'll have to join one of the gangs, much as I loathe them. Just for a bit - just to have the protection of others looking out for me, learn the fighting skills, get something of a support network together for when I've found Georgie. I don't want him to work as a whore - I'll need somewhere for him to stay. This place is going to be rented out again soon, so I'll need a more permanent space - a squat or something. Again, other people are more likely to provide shared shelter._

_Looking at the Dublin kid gangs - they seem to be organized by ethnicity, which is nonsensical. But it'll have to be an Irish kids one then. Further subdivision occurs by substance abused – the smackheads are useless, weak and disease ridden. I need strong people – strong white people – oh fuck..._

_It’s the best option, really… the bloody skinheads know how to fight, they mostly sniff glue and take speed, which makes them only more aggressive… all I have to do is change the skin colour of the guy who attacked me today - I won't have to make up the revenge fantasy - they’ll take me in based purely on shared hatred…_

_I’m not getting any bloody tattoos though. I’ll explain I want to keep my skin pristine and white… that should resonate with them… I giggle despite myself._

_Right. Tomorrow I’m going to shave my head and embrace fucking Nazi ideology… sorry Georgie, it’s all for you…_

_But I’m not getting tomorrow, am I… I’m going backwards, so we’re going to this evening… fuck… I don’t want to feel that… I really don’t want to... I don’t get a choice in this, do I…_

_He’s large, wiry but muscular, his eyes like a nervous viper’s, brutal - I should have known better than to go with him, but I need money-_

_As soon as he enters me I leave my body… I’m floating above the scene, surveying it in shock… I try to batter my noncorporeal arms on him, tell him to let me go, that he’s hurting me, but I’m not succeeding…_

_And I’m pulled back in my body and it’s *hurting* and I can’t push the pain away because it’s *invasive* and he has *no fucking right* and I’m weak and it’s disgusting and he needs to get *off* and I struggle and he’s got a knife against my throat and it’s digging in but he’s so *heavy* and I’m suffocating…_

 

 

I wait for you to fall asleep.

My arms are around you, and you're curled against my chest. Your face is pressed into my neck, so I can't see it. But I can feel your breathing when it slows... feel your body when it lets go of tension...

If a nightmare is coming, I want to be awake for it. I want to be here for you when you open your eyes.

My jaw hardens at the thought of the people in your past still lurking in your unconscious. If they're still alive... they need to be destroyed.

Snipers are good at waiting... I can wait for vengeance.

As for the nightmares that stalk you... I wonder if they can sense I'm here... watching... waiting for them to appear.

Soon you're shivering, and pressing against me. I pull you closer and listen as you murmur, but I can't make out any words. You don't seem to be in distress at this moment, but your skin feels cold - I decide to fetch another blanket from the linen closet in the hall. I hate to leave you for even an instant, but hopefully it will help you sleep. I gently and slowly extricate myself from you, and pad across the floor. Who would have thought we'd need more than one duvet in this heat?

I hear a sound and I pause, my hand hovering over the doorknob.

I look back- to see you wide awake with open eyes... looking like you're physically fighting something off that I can't see... crying out, _let me GO!_   and _you're HURTING me!!_ and _STOP, PLEASE STOP!!!_

I freeze for a moment. This is _not_ a nightmare... this looks like...

Fuck... _FUCK_...

I'm moving towards you, slowly. If this is a flashback like I've seen with traumatized soldiers, I can't interrupt you abruptly.

"Jim..." I say soothingly. "Jim... it's Sebastian... Jim? I'm here..."

I inch closer.

 

_I can't switch it *off*! Why can't I switch the pain off!? It's overwhelming, I hurt everywhere, but it's not just physical pain, it's - violation, it's defilement, he's inside me, he's taken my body, I can't use my body any more, I can't - he's taken my fucking *soul* and is slowly choking it - I can't get away. I can't switch off. It's not stopping - it's never stopping - I've been here for weeks, years, millennia, and it's still going on - he's taken over my body, it's not mine any more - I am not me any more - it's like Mam - she's dead - why hasn't it stopped then - it should have stopped - everything stopped - why doesn't this stop!? Why doesn't it ever STOP!?!_

_It's agony and it's eternal and this is what hell must be like - I'm finally in hell..._

 

The look on your face ... outraged... terrified .... tormented... such pain...

There's involuntary thrashing and twitching, but you seem frozen in anguish ...

I need to bring you out of it without you thinking I'm a danger...

"Jim..." I repeat firmly. "It's Sebastian... your husband. Whatever you're experiencing, it's in the past. It _can't hurt you_... you already survived it. Jim... come back to me now, where you're safe."

I'm standing by the bed, waiting for my voice to register before I touch you.

It's torture not being able to touch you, and tears threaten to spill from my eyes. Oh God... _MakeItStopMakeItStopSeb..._

"Jim," I plead, my voice getting louder. "It's Sebastian... I'm right here, come back to me..."

 

 

_He's speaking - he's saying awful things and I hate them, I'm not a slut, and I'm *fucking not* enjoying this, and yes for fuck's sake, just come you bastard, just come and leave me alone... And how the fuck does he know my *name*!? I didn't say my name...And why's he speaking like a fucking posh Englishman... who's Sebastian... Wait... the ground doesn't feel - these aren't tiles. It's sheets. Why are there sheets? And - this happened in the past, didn't it? Wasn't it - past? Didn't it stop? Didn't I go to... yes to the radiator... and the skins... and... yes... it's not happening now - he's not *really* here - then why can I still *smell* him?!_

_*It's not real, Jimmy*... GO AWAY! NOT YOU TOO!!! *You'll get to me soon, won't you?* NONONONONOnononono... I cry, but I can't get the breath, he's too heavy, he's not there though, there is air, see, just breathe, just... oh you fucker you're hyperventilating... help... "Help me..."_

 

Still frozen... still twitching... still so tormented...

I have to try...

"Jim... baby... it's Sebastian, and I'm going to touch you now. You think you're still in the past, but you're 36, and we're in Mexico on our honeymoon... No one can hurt you now... You're safe with me... I'm going to pull you out, Jim..."

I reach out and gently touch your shoulder.

 

_Someone's touching my shoulder! Attack!_

_No, wait - he was pushing down on my shoulders..._

_But this is different... the touch in between the touch... different realities separating..._

_Sebastian... Mexico... honeymoon? safe?!?_

_I see - a vision of how the future could be... a dream..._

_No - the dream is solidifying... overlaying... I can make the vision real if I concentrate hard enough..._

_Sebastian._

_Your eyes, so concerned, so full of love._

_Your hand on my shoulder._

_Your voice, asking, "Jim? Jim can you hear me? It's me... It's Sebastian... You're safe, baby... Safe with me... We're in Mexico..."_

_I did it. I made the vision reality._

_"Sebastian..." My voice is trembling; I have trouble speaking. You reach for the water bottle on the nightstand, unscrew the cap, put it to my mouth so I can drink - carefully, a small sip at a time._

_"Fuck... that was... it was *real*, I was trapped... fuck..."_

_I look up at you, you're gently rubbing my shoulders, still seem hesitant to touch me - which is good I suppose - I don't want to feel held -_

_I shiver._

_"Thanks Seb... Thanks for pulling me out... that was... not nice to experience."_

 

 

I sit down on the bed, making sure not to crowd you. "No... it seemed fucking intense and upsetting. I've seen it before with soldiers with PTSD... flashbacks. So I know it must have seemed like it was actually happening... I'm _so sorry_ you experienced that. Is there anything you need?" I look at you intently. I'm not going to push- you can share with me or not.

 

 

_"Just... keep holding me like you're doing. I want the contact, but... don't embrace me because I may panic if I feel restricted."_

_I take the water bottle from you, sip some more - reminiscent of the mess of this morning, little ones._

_I put my hand on your knee, my head on your shoulder. I'm even more exhausted than before the bloody nap... and there's some stuff still to come... god, I wish I could switch this off..._

_"That was..." Can I talk about it without it coming back? - careful..._

_"Back in Dublin, when I first lived on the street... I didn't really know anyone, didn't know my way around yet... There was a guy -" I see his face, damn, I can't do this, sorry Tiger..._

_"Sorry, I can't really - it's too close to the surface, it's threatening to jump back... I trust you, I love you, I will tell you one day, but not now."_

 

 

I place my hand gently on your shoulder, kiss your hair.

"Whatever you need, Jim..." I whisper.

 You can't see me at the moment, so it's safe for my face to scrunch up like I'm being tormented myself. Because I am... *I am*…

but this is not about me...

I take a moment to breathe through it, my head lightly resting against yours. I stroke the hand that's on my knee.

"If your stomach is OK, you should eat something... It'll help you feel grounded. Can I heat up some soup for you, or do you want something more substantial?"

 

 

_I can see this is hard for you my love... you big-hearted lump; it’s worse for you to see me suffer than to suffer yourself... god you’re so sweet..._

_I turn towards you and cuddle you close. Food... yes... something to fill the black hole in my stomach... on the one hand it sounds like a great idea; on the other it feels abhorrent. I’ll have to try it out..._

_“Let’s try some soup and toast and see how that goes. And coke - easier on the stomach than water.”_

_You seem happy to be able to do something. We go downstairs and you fuss about me, settling me in a kitchen chair with a large glass of coke that doesn’t need ice, thank you Tiger, and yes I will tell you if I want more... you adorable fusspot._

_You heat up some soup from yesterday’s feast and I manage to actually work out the coffee maker on my first try - good thing, since the bleeding thing is ours now. Oh yes. So - today I woke up puking, was forgiven by the ghost of Georgie, bought you a Mexican villa, relived my rape, and now I’m having soup. Is that about right?_

_“Remind me never to go on a honeymoon again. They’re fucking mental.”_

 

 

I'm so relieved you've agreed to eat. The knot in my stomach is momentarily forgotten as I putter around the kitchen, preparing trays for us. The black rage in me is shoved into a corner for now... It's starting to dawn on me how stuffing emotions incessantly ends up imprisoning you... I know the example of my life was bad enough, but... yours is a cautionary tale, my love. I sigh, and finish loading up the trays. I eye the tower of toast on your tray. I may have overdone it. Whatever. Hopefully by tonight, your appetite will have come back enough so we can finish up the delicious feast from yesterday.

 You've been sipping your coke, making coffee, and sitting quietly. The comment about honeymoons is the only thing you've said since we've come downstairs.

I snort. "I believe I've mentioned people generally don't do this on their honeymoons, right? Taking a flying leap into one's shadow and doing battle with personal demons... not technically a honeymoon activity..." I grab a tray and take it to the living room. Memories of last night float through me as I see the sofa... the Mexican feast, our conversations ranging from ridiculous to poignant, and one of the hottest sexual experiences I've ever had with you... which is saying _a lot_... all before you sang to me and we ended up sobbing our hearts out on the kitchen floor. I had such a beautiful ending to my day... I have no idea what yours will bring... but I'll do my absolute best to bring you to a better place emotionally before we sleep. I don't know how much of it will be in my power, but I would give anything for you to have a peaceful night...

I walk back into the kitchen where you're still sipping your Coke, looking deep in thought. " _Hey_."

You look up, blinking.

"What does that mean, go on honeymoon again... why would you need another honeymoon, Mr. Moriarty?" I ask in a fake accusing voice, as I take your hand and pull you off the chair.  I begin to waltz with you slowly. "What exactly happened to your _first_ husband?"

 

_Oh don’t, Tiger... I burst into tears, because this is apparently who I am now._

_You fuss and apologize, “Oh no, Jim I’m sorry, I was joking, Jim... I didn’t mean to upset you...”_

_“I’m sorry, Tiger - I’m a sentimental ball of... sentiment at the moment... I just never want to think about anything happening to my first husband. The thought is unbearable... I’m going to lock you up in a bulletproof dungeon or something... You’re not allowed to so much as stub a toe._

_Maybe you should rethink your career... you’d be great at embroidery...”_

_You snort and I smile._

_“I’m sorry. I’m sure it’ll get less as I’m less raw. Right now you’re the only thing between me and a bottomless abyss, quite apart from how madly in love I am with you - just any thought of losing you..._

_It will not happen. I will kill the whole world and several of the neighbouring planets before I’ll let anything happen to you,” I state determinedly. God damn it, being one of the most powerful men in the world has to count for something. Yes, it means you’re more likely to be attacked... But I’m a fucking genius and will anticipate any attack and deflect it. Yes, some genius you are... can’t even deal with your own memories... No, I am fucking dealing with them. That’s what we’re doing. In a safe corner of the world. I’ll be even stronger when this is over._

_Also, eat food. Let Tiger take care of you - he obviously needs to._

_We make our way to the living room, where you’ve lit another candle - you incorrigible romantic. You point out every aspect of the food to me - worrying about the spiciness of the soup, the butteredness of the toast, if I should be having coffee on an empty stomach..._

_You’re too adorable to tell off and I obediently eat some soup and toast before I drink more of the coffee. It does taste good. If I eat slowly, I’ll probably be able to eat quite a bit._

_“So, earlier...” I start, and you look at me in alarm._

_“No Jim, don’t say anything if you’re not ready - it’s fine- “_

_“I know. I’m not going to go into details but I know you will fret if you don’t know... It was rape. I was thirteen. He was an adult man. I never saw him afterwards, or he’d have been dead - I learned to fight pretty quickly pretty dirtily after that.”_

_Just talking about it dispassionately is ok. The memory is further away now._

 

I'm feeling so tense as we eat our soup - it's delicious, a zesty tomato base with corn and bell peppers. But possibly too spicy for you? Suddenly everything is wrong... what was I thinking making that kind of joke to you when you're so raw? (Uh... he _did_ let you think he was dead for a year, my snippy side oh-so-helpfully reminds me. I snarl, and it retreats.) I was just trying to bring a sense of normalcy, and ... and you always appreciated gallows humour, and... _sigh_

Suddenly you're telling me, and I've already guessed, and I don't know if I need to know- but there it is. Thirteen... _Jesus_. At thirteen I was thinking about parties, and how many bases I could get to with this guy and that girl, and stealing, and getting into my parent's liquor cabinet, and blowing shit up... and you were on the street, where disgusting sexual predators were looking to- I realize I've been holding a spoonful of soup partway up to my mouth while you spoke. I only know this because the spoon is now shaking, and a few drops of soup splash into the bowl. I slowly lower the spoon back into the bowl, and push it back.

I swallow hard. "I thought it might be... I just didn't know- how young." I wince. "I'm – _so - sorry_. It sounds so paltry, but I am. I wish I could have protected you then. I wish I could kill anyone who ever messed with you..." I lower my head. "Everything you went through... I have no words. I'm just so fucking glad you survived it all... whatever you had to do, to get here. I love you, and I'm here for you- whatever you need." I gaze up at you through my lashes. _My amazing - beautiful - Jim-_

 

 

_“I wish you could have been there... a burly nineteen-year-old to protect me was just what I needed,” I smile. “It’s... I think the single most... invasive thing that happened to me. I mean - you’d think the stuff with Mam was worse, but - I don’t know, it probably was, objectively speaking, and it was disgusting - but... I still trusted her, in a way. I was less scared. With the guy - what I felt just now - was sheer intense panic.”_

_That’ll do. Don’t think back any further._

_“I’m sorry you’re getting a front row seat for all this. I know it must be hell for you... but I’m so glad you’re here. You’re still so raw yourself; but you’re being my rock._

_And I’m afraid that this wasn’t it yet... I pray to any gods that will listen - some of the old Mexican ones, the nice bloodthirsty ones, they should like us, shouldn’t they? - that this shit will stop when we get to the place from where I stopped feeling and I don’t get to relive my entire childhood as well because I’ve done those bloody feelings, alright?!_

_I don’t know if I told you - I did feel as a child. It stopped when I killed my mother. And - she’s still in the bunker, shambling towards the exit, and she’ll come out soon... I don’t think there’s anything else - no too traumatic events in the kid’s prison I think -but yeah, that’s going to be a corker. Sorry, my love. I so wish I could shut this off...”_

 

"It feels unfair that I couldn't have been there," I mutter, balling my hands into fists. "Even if it makes no fucking sense. And I wasn't burly then... just aggressive and full of rage." I force my hands to relax, but I'd really like to pummel something. Maybe I should punch that palm tree later...

"I'm glad I'm here too, and please stop worrying about me. I would never let you do this on your own..." I take your hand a squeeze it gently. It feels weird not to be holding you, but - I'm going to leave it up to you decide how much more contact you want for now.

"Well... hopefully you can have a break before dealing with any more feelings. I think you've gone through quite enough... I could threaten your subconscious and tell it to leave you alone for awhile, but that's probably not therapeutic. Moriartys Counselling Services might disapprove..." I sigh and fall back against the sofa cushions. "Well, nothing's stopping you from relaxing and forgetting about this for awhile... what do you feel like, babe? Another film? A swim?"

 

_“... if it’s all the same to you, I might as well get through the whole lot now... otherwise I’ll just be dreading. And I don’t want Mam to grab me in the middle of the sea or something... just... get me lots of alcohol, tissues, cigarettes... and don’t leave me alone. I know you won’t...”_

_Alright you mother of all my demons... I’m ready for you..._

 

 _Oh god... really??_ I want to throw myself back and cover my head with a cushion... how do you have the emotional stamina to do this??

I quickly clear any expression that was on my face (Shock? Horror?) and get stoic as fuck.

" _Of course_ I won't leave you. Alcohol, tissues, cigarettes... got it. Outside again?"

 

 

_"Yes? There's something about the sea..."_

_I'm sorry Tigger... but I'd rather get through everything today rather than going to sleep again with that unresolved. If I have to face the Feelings that killed all Feelings, I'd rather do it when I'm conscious. And I don't think I could feel much worse than I do... but probably shouldn't tempt fate._

_We go outside and you make sure I have everything I could possibly need; then we sit down and I manoeuvre myself into your arms._

_How do we do this? How do you tell feelings to come, that it's ok? It's like meditation I guess? You look inward..._

_You pour me a glass of rum and I sip it, close my eyes, look at the bunker..._

_Yes, I can picture it. And I can see its inhabitants. Some of the boys from the facility scramble out, but they're not too significant - some fear, some pain. The psychiatrists with their endless poking of my brain - mostly irritation and frustration. But there - in the dark... oh yes there she is..._

_She looks like in a zombie film - shambling towards the exit, in a bloodstained white nightshirt (that she wasn't wearing when I killed her, it was day), her throat slit open, her hair matted with blood, eyes wide open, mouth drooling blood..._

_Oh fuck here we go..._

_*Hi Jimmy... finally come for me, have you?*_

_Not really. I believe it's you who's coming for me. Like always._

_*Don't be horrible Jimmy. It's you who killed me. If anything, you should apologize.*_

_You needed to die. You were hurting Georgie._

_*And you did better? You killed Georgie. Or left him to die at least... he'd still be alive if it wasn't for you...*_

_Fuck off. You don't know that. He's dead because of what you did to him, not me._

_*You killed his mother Jimmy... And then took away his brother. The only two people he cared about...*_

_SHUT UP!!! You hurt him!!!_

_*I didn't... it was just cuddles... You were away, Jimmy, and I was scared...*_

_Those weren't cuddles, you... monster!_

_You should have stayed home, Jimmy... it never would have happened if you'd stayed at home... You knew you shouldn't have stayed over at Jamie's, didn't you? You just left him... you didn't care...*_

_SHUT!! UP!!!_

_This is not going well... as forgiving as Georgie's ghost was, this one is determined to lay bare my nerves and slowly peel every one of them with a pen knife... She knows my weakest spots (*of course Jimmy, I'm you...*), and is hunting them ruthlessly... what can I do?!_

_I'm scratching at my stomach again, moaning, drinking the rum fast, scratching at my breastbone – maybe if I scratch it open, she will pour out…_

Back to our nest on the beach... I'm not exactly getting used to it, but I suppose it doesn't strike terror into my heart, like it did the first couple of times. Now there's dread... fear... malaise... sorrow... pain... And I know that panic will likely arise, too. But for now, I let the other feelings and sensations move through me as I take up sentry position by you again.

You are silent for a very long time...

I hear the waves...

I feel the ocean breeze... and the sun on my skin...

Things would feel peaceful if I didn't know something was coming...

And of course it does....

You're scratching at yourself again... my mouth tightens. I want to stop you so badly...

But I can't.

I sit. I watch. I wait...

 

 

_Go back. Go back Jim. She's not real. She's the avatar of all the negative feelings that you suppressed after the event. All the negative feelings you still have inside you. You created two entities inside yourself to hang your feelings from. Of course Georgie would be linked to positive feelings of forgiveness and love - and it looks like Mam is the focus of your guilt and powerlessness._

_NONE OF THIS IS REAL. It's your subconscious giving shape to emotions that you suppressed. You obviously still feel guilt, but - you argued with your guilt. You told it it wasn't your fault. There are two sides inside you, one feels guilty about everything that happened - with Mam, with Georgie, with Sebastian - but there is a forgiving side as well. And - Georgie is right - it doesn't serve him or Mam if I wallow in guilt, and it does Sebastian a disservice. So - try not to get stuck in the guilt..._

_Mam - fuck, Mam. I'm sorry Mam. You were wrong. You were. But - you were weak, and confused, and so abused yourself, by granddad, by dad, you didn't know love was possible without pain... So that's who I got it from..._

_And you tried. You tried to give us a better life, and you failed, and you fell back into the only pattern you knew..._

_I did love you, you know. Right until you died, and I no longer was capable of loving anyone. Except Georgie, but I never saw him again... So I don't know how that love would have manifested... it was more a feeling of 'I know I love him; he is my brother and the sole reason for my existence right now'..._

_She's looking at me, and then looking behind me, and I turn around to look..._

_The stairs. The stairs of our house. Oh god... I'm going to have to do this, won't I..._

_At least she isn't speaking any more..._

_I walk to the stairs, taking the steps one by one, holding on to the handrail with my left hand, having the knife in my right. The big kitchen knife, that is so sharp, Georgie is never allowed to touch it. I am, when I'm cooking. I can cook quite well now._

_Three more steps._

_The knife slides easily through meat - it shouldn't have any problems with flesh._

_Two more steps._

_She's asleep - she said she had a headache and I smell weed._

_The final step._

_It's a strong smell - she's just bought a bag so she'll have made a strong one. No way she'll wake up._

_I open the door to the bedroom where the smell assaults my nostrils - I fucking hate weed, never let you smoke it in the house. An empty glass sits next to an ashtray with a half-smoked joint._

_She’s wearing a t-shirt and knickers – took off her jeans which are discarded on the floor._

_I move to the side of the bed – it shouldn’t be hard. I’ve killed rats that Minnie brought in before now – just press on the knife and move it a bit. It’s important to do it fast, not make them suffer._

_The knife is in my left hand, I hold it above her throat, bring it down quickly, pushing it forward as well as down, pressing on it with my right hand._

_She jolts, her hands move, I press harder, move back and forward again – it’s going down, it’s halfway down – she opens her mouth, to speak, to scream, but only blood comes out. Her eyes –_

_her eyes –_

_Something cracks inside me, audibly. My head shatters with the sound, with the blinding flash of blackness that comes with it._

_I look down at the body before me, still moving, mechanically move the knife down to stop it. I’m nearly all the way down but there’s bone – I don’t think I need to cut through the bone. This should do. The body stops spasming. I think it’s dead._

_I don’t know what to do now._

_I stand indecisively for a moment, but then I recall I am here to witness this as my grown self. I take a step back – look at the little twelve-year-old who is looking down at the mother he just killed with a grim look. His eyes empty. That was it. That crack – I’d forgotten about that. That was when my amygdala broke._

_So – here we go Mam. All the pain I should feel – bring it on._

_For a moment – nothing. And then – I look at the body on the bed – fuck – it’s *MAM*!!! Mam! Mam!! Don’t – oh no Mam don’t lie there so still – no don’t be dead – no… oh god no… I didn’t… No I have to fix it – how can I fix it?! HOW CAN I EVER FIX THIS!? No it’s a nightmare, it’s not real, I haven’t really… NO…It’s real – oh no – mam, mam, mammy… Mammy…_

_No please no please no please… how could this happen… how could I… I love you mammy, I’m so sorry mammy please forgive me, please stop it, please stop lying there so still…_

_“Mammy…”_

_My own voice draws me back – I hear the voice from outside, away from this bedroom, back down the stairs… but I can’t, I can’t leave mammy, I need to fix her… Would her heart still be beating? Could I phone an ambulance?_

_But I recall I didn’t try… I just went outside… Where neighbours saw me and panicked…_

_I can’t do anything now… just… feel the pain, the guilt… I’m so sorry Mammy…_

_In a daze, I descend the stairs again, see the light of the sun, open my eyes on the beach, watching the sea…_

_I, matricide…_

_I’m glad I can cry. I feel I would explode if I couldn’t. As it is, tears stream down my face and I keen softly, heartbrokenly. I’m dimly aware of you holding me – again, I am shivering._

_The pain… Oh god Mammy…_

 

 

The scratching stops, and you're silent again...

The silence stretches endlessly...

All that exists are the waves, and the wind, and the sun, and you...

And then you speak. One word.

And then you cry...

and cry...

and cry...

 

I'm holding you, I have to, as you moan and keen and weep...

my beautiful Jim...

So much pain...

I press my face against your back, try to warm you.

Oh, baby... I hope you can let go of this pain at last...

 

 

_"I killed her, Tiger... I killed my mother... I *killed* her... how could I? What kind of monster am I?! It was the stupidest thing I could do - she and I were the only ones Georgie had, and then I took us both away from him... and she was my *mam*... my mammy... she did stupid things, but she was my mam... I didn't mean to kill her... No, I did... I did mean to kill her... But then when she was dead I wanted to make it right, but I couldn't... Except I didn't... I wanted to make it right now, I panicked, I would have done anything to fix it... but then... I felt nothing... Nothing at all... ever again... until now..._

_Oh Mammy I'm so sorry..."_

_Tears keep streaming down my face, but that's probably good... it's pain leaking out of me... And there's so much pain... the more I can get out the better... but it doesn't feel like this well will ever run dry._

I didn't expect this, _I didn't expect this_... you spoke so matter-of-factly about killing her... you seemed so... cold and remote about it, I thought... I don't know, I don't know!! How did I think a twelve-year-old would feel nothing, even Jim??

You had me so convinced...

And now... now...

Tears are streaming from my eyes, to see you feel such sorrow, such remorse and such pain... Oh God... how will you bear it? And how will I bear it alongside you??

I continue to hold you, but now I feel as though I'm holding on for dear life, for both of us...

 

_This guilt is something else. It’s tearing every single nerve I have in twain. It’s unbearable - I want to tear myself open - damn -_

_Oh fuck, you’re not going to help are you..._

_“Sebastian. I need you to... beat me up. Please.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Jimmy - Tool  
> Mother and Child Divided - Porcupine Tree  
> Am I Savage? - Metallica  
> Mother Murder - Hollywood Undead  
> Nightmare - Set It Off  
> Mother - John Lennon  
> Mama - My Chemical Romance  
> Down With the Sickness - Disturbed  
> Shake It Out - Florence and the Machine  
> Saucerful of Secrets - Pink Floyd  
> The Unforgiven II - Metallica  
> Sweet Tooth - Marilyn Manson


	12. I'm Not Fucking OK With This...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you've skipped the last chapter, here's a summary:  
> Jim and Sebastian talk about their new villa (Casa La Guarida del Tigre - Home of the Tiger's Den) and travelling the world. Jim attempts to have a nap and instead has a flashback of being raped when he was thirteen. Sebastian brings him out of it, and manages to get him to eat some soup to keep his strength up. Then Jim feels he needs to confront his mother in his psyche, so he can just be done with everything. He relives his memory of killing her at twelve, to keep her from sexually abusing his younger brother. Since Jim's emotions have returned, the memory is excruciating and brings so much guilt it threatens to consume him- and he orders Sebastian to beat him.

“What...?” I blink, not comprehending. And then stare at you, aghast. “NO.”

 

_Not a request._

_“That was an order, soldier. I know it’s the last thing you want, but it’s what I need. You’ll make me suffer much worse if you don’t. I need to release the guilt and the only way I know is hurt.”_

_I look into your eyes, somehow endeavouring to look commanding through tears._

_“Do as I say._

_Please.”_

 

 

I've stood up and stumbled back without knowing it. You wouldn't... you _wouldn't_... oh _GOD_ , you did.

"Jim... don't ask me to do this... there must be another way..." I say roughly, forcing myself to stop moving back.

 

 

_"Not asking. Seb. I know myself. I know you. I wouldn’t ask if there were another option. Just - see it like - if you stitch a wound up. It hurts but it’s needed to avoid worse._

_I’m being torn apart inside and I need to suffer physically to release the guilt. Guess the Catholic Church fucked me up worse than I thought. Or my dad. Anyway - psychology aside, it’s how I work._

_Also, if you don’t do it, I will. And I’ll use a knife, not fists._

_Please start by punching me in the stomach. That’s where it hurts worst.”_

 

 

God, Jim... why?? I cover my face with my hand, and turn away from you. Tears are already rolling from my eyes. You don't need to see that.

I'm pacing... breathing like I've just finished sobbing... cursing....

I'm forcing my breath to become slow and even... forcing my mind to stop thinking... forcing my heart to close down...

I've been your sniper and assassin for 5 long years...

I haven't been a soldier in as long...

But it's all coming back to me...

No thoughts... No feelings...

Nothing but orders... the chain of command... the mission...

Protect Jim... including from himself...

I won't see you hurt yourself. I _won't_...

I wipe my eyes, sniffle.

My jaw hardens. My muscles tense. My eyes grow steely.

I turn around, and walk back to you. "I'm not _fucking_ OK with this. But you're ordering me to beat you, or you'll hurt yourself worse. I'm _way less_ OK with that. So, _fine_ \- I'll be your soldier... if that's what you want me to be. Get up."

My disobedient heart squeezes painfully.

 

 

_The pain is eating me alive..._

_Mam... Mam... I killed my *mother*... one of the only three people I ever loved... Mammy..._

_God please Seb.... Please... Please make it stop...._

_You - you’ll do it. Oh god bless you Sebastian. I know this must be agony for you... but I’ll deal with that guilt later. Fuck... please..._

_I want to say I love you but that’s only going to make it harder on you, isn’t it... no emotions is the way you’re dealing with this. You are a godsend Sebastian.... I will make this up to you somehow..._

_No more tears, neutral face, let the soldier deal with this without invoking his lover..._

_I get up, face you. I put on the face you dislike most - the bored, dispassionate one. It’s the opposite of how I feel but fortunately emotions don’t affect my acting skills._

_“Get on with it.”_

 

 

My stomach clenches and my breath catches in my throat. To see your old face sliding back into place... as if it was never gone... as if it had been lurking all along... as if the last few days meant _nothing_... This is the horrible secret fear that I haven't admitted, even to myself...

I look at you suspiciously. _No_... not after everything I've seen, after everything we've shared... it's _just an act..._

And then you speak.

I'm openly glaring now. This is hard enough without _him_ talking to me...

"Stop that. I can do this without your help," I snap.

 

 

_“OK.”_

_I acknowledge the remark, put my face in neutral. Stand up, throw out my arms._

 

...

Somewhere in my psyche there are two figures frozen in time...

in an empty parking lot...

the taller one with his arms out...

the smaller one facing him down, ready to attack...

You were coming apart at the seams on the way to a job, and I let you... I _told you to_...

Taking the opposite position now feels like slowly falling into madness...

No more hesitation. I punch hard.

 

 

_Thank you, Sebastian._

_That punch, in the stomach as requested, dislodges something.  It feels like the ball of guilt that was sitting there has been punctured and it’s leaking. Good. Now all I need is pain. You’re good; you are able to give me pain without damaging me - especially when you’re cold and calculating like now, rather than angry like... whenever it was. Back in London._

_I look up at you, my face not showing anything - I don’t want to distract you._

It was too much to hope one punch would be enough...

Fuck... _FUCK_... this was easier when you were being an arsehole...

"Are you still in there... fucker?" I hear myself growl. _Shit_...

 

 

_Oh, you want *him* back do you? Good, let this be you blowing off steam as well as me blowing off guilt._

_Face back. Impatient, irritated. Cold eyes. Voice disdainful._

_“Of course, Moran.” Moran... “Stop faffing about and do as you’re told.”_

I suck in my breath. "I'm not doing this because _you_ said so..."

I punch again, and this time I don't stop at one. I keep punching, spacing them out so I can monitor your reactions, your breathing...

Whatever you're going through internally, you manage to keep Moriarty's smirk on the surface.

"Enough, Jim?” I pant. “Can I stop??"

 

 

_“Is that all? You’ve gone weak, Moran. That’s what happens when I let discipline go slack...”_

_No, my love, not enough yet... More pain, please... I’m so sorry..._

 

 

"This- isn't - about - you-" I snarl, and punch harder.

Blow after blow after blow.

How long is this going to continue??

And how long can you keep that goddamned smirk in place? I glare at you dangerously and punch again and again...

 

 

_I could keep this up all day - it’s almost a relief to feel pain without shutting it out - but you’re running out of places to punch without doubling punches or hitting anywhere damaging._

_Stomach again, Seb... I open my chest to you, give you a contemptuous smirk._

 

I punch you in the chest... the ribs... over and over... you're getting tired, I think??

I'm breathing hard… focusing on that sneering smile, and not on the tears fighting to come loose...

 

 

_“Stomach, you useless idiot.”_

 

 

I see red... lose sense of time... I'm punching repeatedly...

all there is now is my fist... your stomach... your sneering face...

and now I know you're tiring...

you're gasping...

doubling over...

sagging to the ground...

and I fall on my knees, and pull you into my arms... finally, finally letting my tears go.

 

 

_*That’s* it... oh god that’s it..._

_My knees buckle, I sink to the ground, and it’s coming out..._

_The contents of my stomach, such as they were, are pouring out into the sand... and with them the sharpest edge of the guilt._

_Some psychologist could probably write their dissertation on just today, but it does help, and as I’m gasping for air in between heaves of my stomach, every bit of my chest aching, I do feel... better is not the word... but like I might survive this._

 

 

After you're sick, I gently wipe the corner of your mouth with a towel. Then I'm pulling you to me like my life depends on it, crying and kissing your face over and over. There's something resembling peace on your face... I hope it lasts, because I do not want to do that again... but I will give you whatever you need, even if it means going to hell... I cradle your head, caressing your face. "I love you..." I weep into your hair. "I love you..."

 

_Oh my poor, sweet, beloved, obedient Tiger... I can only imagine how hard that must have been for you..._

_You’re holding me so close, and crying as you are stroking me, repeating your love for me..._

_When I can speak again, I look up into your face. “I’m so sorry, my love... this must have been so hard on you... Thank you, my sweet sweet Tiger. It... took the edge off. Thank you.”_

_Tears stream down my face, there is still pain, and guilt, but... I’ll make it. I hope._

 

"I love you, Jim..." I can't seem to express anything else. I rest my head against yours, and we're both crying and holding each other, not speaking...  sitting in the warm sand, and listening to the wind on the waves.

 

 

_I rinse my mouth, have a few sips of water. And then... it’s the sea again, I guess. It seems to be able to cleanse me like nothing else can._

_I get up, walk to the water, you barely a step behind me. We walk in. I stop when the water reaches my chest, and reach for you, sobbing. I sob and sob my heart out, it feels like I’ll never be able to stop, but that’s alright, I know you’ll hold me until sunset, until the next morning, until the sun burns out. I have more than a husband, a lover, or a bodyguard... you are my sentinel. What you said earlier - I was born for this - it’s true. It’s what you feel. You would support me until I die, you would die *for* me, gladly, and I have no idea what I ever did to deserve you, but I swear to god I will live the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you._

_And for that, I must get through this. I must be kind of alright or you’ll worry yourself sick. Not for myself. Not for Mam, or Georgie. For you. My Sebastian._

 

 

My poor, sweet Jim... you start sobbing your heart out as soon as you're submerged in the water. Oh... _oh god_ , how hard this has been for you, my beautiful love... and I know you're not just doing it for you. You're doing it for me.... because you know how much you hurt me, wounded me, devastated me... nearly destroyed me... and you never want to cause me pain ever again. My shoulders start to shake. My face crumples.  And for about the millionth time since you returned to me, we're sobbing in each other's arms. Is this just life now, a part of me wonders wryly... life for a pair of wounded psychopaths so madly in love, they'll put themselves through hell to spare each other pain? If so... it's worth it for every time I get to kiss you, every moment I get to hold you... I sob my own heart out as I hold you in the sea, and thank my lucky stars for every moment I have with you, my beloved psychopath.

 

 

_I am feeling held in your arms - supported - you won’t let me fall, won’t let me down... ever..._

_I wash and rinse - at one point even wash out my mouth with sea water, swim out so I’m fully immersed again; you help me wash my back, it’s almost a ritual now..._

_and at some point I stop crying it seems, and am held up by your arms... so exhausted, in pain, raw like I’ve never been before, but I made it... there will be more, I’m not done suffering, I’ll feel guilty forever I think, but I can move, I can try, I can imagine going on with life._

_You carry me back to the shore and I don’t object; you put me on a chair in the kitchen as you try to get me to eat something yet again, I’m so sorry Tiger, I will stop throwing up at some point..._

_I manage some toast and sugary tea, and you look at me worrying, ready to do anything, and I just hang my head onto your shoulder, so incredibly tired..._

_“I’m exhausted Tiger, but I don’t want to sleep yet... I would like to try to get some distraction first... shall we watch a silly film? And make an appropriate sacrifice to the local deity - I am afraid we’re low on virgins, but we can do some tequila - that this was fucking it. If I have to do one more of these...”_

_I really hope the bunker is empty. But I’m not going to look any more tonight. I’m spent._

 

 

Thank fucking Christ... I sigh. You're done, at least for today. " _Yes_ , let's watch a silly, silly film and offer all the tequila you like. We'll have to google an appropriate Aztec deity... And I don't know about you, but I'm ready for some serious cuddling... I mean, let's go _hardcore_ , babe..." I kiss your face over and over, and hug you long and hard.

 

 

_“Awww, way to get a man when he’s down...” I giggle under your onslaught, wince when you squeeze me hard, but make sure I don’t let on - the last thing I want is you feeling guilty about my sore ribs._

_I kiss you back, so relieved at just feeling empty, not scared, not in agony, just sore and exhausted._

_You seem to be emboldened by this and pick me up like a blushing bride and carry me into the living room where you carefully lower me onto the sofa. You dive at the DVDs and hold up Disney’s Aladdin - perfect._

 

 

Watching the film feels like such a relief... and my suggestion for hardcore cuddling is not taken lightly. We go through several different configurations, and finally settle on you straddling my lap, facing me- with our arms around each other, your cheek resting on my chest. When the film ends, I cover your face with kisses a second time. I'm pleased to have you giggling again, and soon you're kissing my lips sweetly. I kiss you back, sighing with relief.

It's not long before the gnawing sensation in my stomach that I've been ignoring becomes insistent for my attention. I've been so focused on keeping things light and comfortable for you, I haven't even thought of myself. But now it's all rushing back to me... two hours ago I was staring down the face of my nightmares, so I could beat the man I loved... to help him deal with his torment over killing his mother in cold blood. Jesus Fucking Christ... there's a lump in my throat, a tremor under my skin, and a backlog of too many raw feelings to know what to deal with first.  I choke back a sob, and shove them aside... I can't. I just can't... I need to forget about all these monstrous things for awhile... I bury my face in your hair, and just breathe.

_“Sweetheart - my Seb, my love... it’s ok my love, you can cry ... it is a bit much, I understand, I’m so sorry... I do think the bunker is empty now... I hope to god it is... I’m so sorry you had to deal with all that - you were amazing, my soldier, my love....” I’m whispering sweet nothings to you like I’ve been doing it for years. It’s so much easier every day, but it still feels so... odd, but in a pleasant way mostly. It was always something *normal* people said; I was way above that... but it’s warming to the heart to say these things. And it makes me feel... together; the opposite of alone and unsupported. I have a love, a sweetheart, and he is big and strong and smart and he will keep me safe forever. And now I need to do the same for him, because he is upset, and I can do that - I can actually care about what someone else feels - well - about what he feels, at least. My Sebastian. My husband. I stroke your neck, your shoulders, hold you close._

_Oh Jim, don't... I can't stop myself if you-_ I hear myself whimper. It doesn't take much, just a few whispered words from you, and I'm weeping in your arms again. I have no words... there's just this. Muffled sobs into your neck. Shaking. Pressing against you, then realizing you're in pain from being beaten by me (!!), trying to pull back, only to have you yank me back against you. I laugh faintly at this- bossy fucker. And then the sobs recede into tears, and the tears recede into sniffling. And then silence. I have no words...

 

 

_My tears stream again when yours start. It’s ok - I have hardly cried for two hours. I just hold you close - I don’t mind the pain in my ribs, I need you close, close, close.... “Are you ok, my love? Why are you crying? I mean - you have plenty of reasons, but anything in particular?”_

 

 

I laugh again. "It's a lot..." I'm silent for a while. "Critical mass, I guess... all the emotions from the last few days. Then seeing you in so much pain. Hearing what you went through. Having to hit you?? And... _him_."

 

 

 _... oh. Oh damn. “... him?”_  

 

 

"You. _Old_ you? _Still_ you? _Him_."

 

 

_... That’s what I feared you’d say. You hated me? But then - why did you stay? Well, you loved me too. Addiction. Yes, I was a prick, but... that’s still part of who I am. I mean - it was me. I realize I’m speculating and I should really talk this through with the person who can answer my questions... but I’m pretty sure I won’t like the answers... “What was it about... him?”_

 

 

I cover my eyes and laugh helplessly. "Oh, baby- you don't want to get into this now, do you? You _just_ went through hell... all day has been hell for you." I look at you waiting, and I sigh. "It just caught me off guard. I was raw, I was in a really fucking hard place, and I didn't expect -" My jaw hardens. "That face, that voice- does something to me now. Obviously I have some shit I need to work out. I have a better understanding of why you were the way you were. But- apparently there's still... _feelings_ about certain things, certain... incidents. I guess you and I are going to need to have a _conversation_... So I can let it go. But I need to be able to say what I want, express what I want... and not be worried about your emotional state. I'm thinking I should put a pin in it for the moment. Don't you agree?"

 

 

_“Yes... I think I get it. It wasn’t me you hated, but... certain moods I had, certain things I did. Probably mostly when I was trying to avoid getting feelings... I agree this is not the best time to talk about this... Even I have a limit to the amount of suffering I can take in one day.... I’m... sorry I made you beat me, but it really helped. I have a weird relationship with guilt... well, with all feelings. But guilt... hurts so much... and pain and suffering make the guilt less. A thing about sin and atonement I guess, or bad boys get punished - whatever. But it - god the guilt was devouring me from the inside. It was unbearable - I *would* have cut myself open to try to relieve it. So what you did... was really easing the pain. And I love you for it... for everything._

_I am aware that this has so far been a... honeymoon with ups and downs which have been quite extreme. And most of the downs have been because of me... well, all of them, really.... I am sorry I’m such a difficult person to be with. I guess you wouldn’t want an easy guy, would you... I do hope it’ll ease off somewhat as I get more used to having feelings. And you get less of mental Moriarty and more of Moriarty madly in love. I enjoy that more too._

_And you know... when I was being torn apart by the guilt, and thought I’d never come out of it... it was you who pulled me through. Knowing that you would suffer if I caved in under it made me able to try and get through it. What I’m saying is, what I said in London was true - I am nothing without my Tiger.” I snuggle up to your warm chest, in your loving beloved arms... this is it. This is life and this is the one thing that makes life worth living._

 

I rest my head against yours, finding comfort in your warmth. "I _get_ why you needed it... I do. I mean, _of course_ I do... apparently I needed the same thing from you for most of our relationship. To deal with _my_ feelings of guilt. But I still find it easier to take it than to give it - at least when you're in pain." My chin trembles slightly, and I exhale.

"This honeymoon has been... unexpected... but I had no idea what to expect anyway. The first day was a dream. The next few days... so fucking hard. But necessary, I totally get it. If it makes things better for you, for us... it's all worth it." I kiss your hair, hold you close.

"And I don't want an easy guy, I want you. Mental _and_ madly in love." I pull back to look at you. "I'm no different. And I'm nothing without you, too..." I kiss your lips reverently, gaze at you, and return to resting my head against yours. Mental and madly in love... it's true, but... I wonder how these last few days will change things. And I can't stop from dwelling on what I haven't let myself think about since we arrived... he's still in there, somewhere.... because he's you. Not all of you, but some kind of coping mechanism. Will he come out again, when we're back in the real world? For moments? For days?? Shit... yet another reason not to want to leave here - ever. But not something to figure out just now. I put aside the thought for now, the uneasy feeling... and focus on the feeling of your warm body against mine.

 

_“If possible, I’d like to take it easy tomorrow... no difficult conversations, no ghosts from the past... just you and me in our new villa... I’ll do my very best, my Tiger... but... that remark sounded a bit scary. If you had so much guilt for so many years for something that really wasn’t your fault... how am I going to ever get past something that so very much was my fault? Will I want to suffer for twenty years? Is that how normal people deal with guilt? Or are you extraordinarily punitive towards yourself? I’m... fuck, Seb, I wouldn’t give up these feelings for anything in the world, but this guilt is something else. I’m not keen to live with it for so long... how does one manage?”_

 

I breathe a sigh of relief when you say you want to take it easy... finally!! "Oh god..." I groan. "You have no idea how much I could use a day to just be, and not think..." I press my lips to your cheek, and slide my arms around your shoulders, facing you. "Babe... I didn't know that's what I was doing... I just heard myself say it now, and it's kind of a mindfuck. I guess it makes sense, but it's pretty twisted. Love and protect you at all costs, and get punished for it... since I couldn't protect my first boyfriend, I thought I deserved to be punished? But I wasn't dealing with my feelings of guilt- at all. I hadn't felt them in more than 25 years, and I didn't think about it. I think if you're actually facing your feelings, it's different... I don't know how normal people do _anything_ , to be honest... so it only matters how _you_ do something... how much you think you should suffer for something from the past. Maybe it never fully goes away, but- I don't think it needs to dominate our lives like it has been... up to now."

 

 

_“So... one side of you wanted to be punished... but you also love being dominated and hurt. So - partly you enjoyed the pain, but partly it was suffering as atonement? I... have to admit I didn’t dare think too deeply about it. I just knew you wanted to be overpowered by someone, wanted to be hurt - and if I went further than you wanted occasionally, who cared? You weren’t going away - you were mine. Irrevocably._

 

_And what you say about it dominating our lives... did it? I mean - mine didn’t. I didn’t feel guilty - I didn’t feel anything. And you - would you really not have stayed with me if it hadn’t been for your guilt? That... would be painful. I mean, I know I was a dick - but I loved the idea that you were so smitten with me that you couldn’t leave me. And you *couldn’t*. Come on, Seb - But... if it hadn’t been for the guilt, would you have been so self-destructive? Maybe you would have been a nice history professor, doing some fencing and archery on the side.... hard to imagine.... nah, it’s not that which made you who you are. You are violent and masochistic by nature... maybe you’d have been able to deal with it better without the guilt... but... I’d still like to think that I’m the best thing that ever happened to you... aren’t I?”_

 

"You just can't stop yourself from thinking, can you? My god, that's a lot of questions..." I kiss your lips. "Yes, I enjoyed being dominated and hurt. But all the physical shit that went _too fucking far_ and the emotional shit that _fucking hurt_... maybe that was the punishment... I don't know, it's not like I was doing it consciously! But it makes sense... Would I have _stayed_ with you if I didn't feel guilty??" I stop to think.

"Jesus, Jim... how can I answer that? What sane person would have put themselves through that - being in love with a sadistic psychopath who was incapable of feeling for them? But I don't think a sane person would have gotten involved with you in the first place, as soon as they saw your eyes..." I stare at you.

"You're fucking beautiful, you know that... but you don't go near that kind of crazy, if you're not batshit yourself. _Yes_ , I was smitten and I couldn't see myself leaving... but you're asking about a sane, non-guilty version of me, and I have no idea who that guy is. I've been self-destructive, aggressive, and had a dark side since I was thirteen... maybe you're right, maybe that's just me." I shrug and look at you.

"So if we're considering the current version of me... when you met me, I was a head case with a death wish. So you _are_ the best thing that happened to me - you gave me something to live for, to _care_ about, for the first time in two decades. You brought my heart back to life... But you also did some shitty things that put me through an emotional wringer. And those things we probably shouldn't get into now..."

I stop to think. "One might say _not feeling emotions_ for more than 20 years and denying yourself any human connection... _was_ being dominated by your guilt... extremely so! But what do I know? I'm not exactly the poster boy for mental health, am I? If I had been, I never would have experienced the amazing entity that is Jim Moriarty. Trust me, love- about that, I have _no_ regrets." I kiss your lips softly.

 

 

_I’m so tired that I finally tell my mind to fuck off with its endless questions. Not now, Moriarty. You can take a fucking break from information gathering for a bit. Just... rest. You have the rest of your lives to work stuff out. Just for once, switch that big brain off and just be. I kiss you back, stroke your hair. It’s so comforting to have you here, your presence soothing the storm inside me even now. It’s so beautiful to just kiss. We never did that - we kissed, but in greed and hunger, as prelims for things to come, claiming territory._

_I’d never kissed anyone before; so it was a big thing anyway, but this... this is enjoying the beauty of kissing as an expression of love and tenderness. Gently licking your lips, nibbling on each of them with just my own, or carefully with teeth; opening my mouth against yours, feeling you do the same, asking and being given entrance with my tongue, exploring your mouth, dancing with your tongue, focussing my entire world on just this action of osculation. All the while, our bodies are closely intertwined and my hands are doing things I’d never tried either - stroking gently, with such attention, such tenderness, experiencing every inch of your body - the smoothness of your skin, the hairs on your arms and chest, the softness of your hair, the network of scars and weals on your back, your muscles moving when you shift position... The whole exquisite package of a human body inhabited by a beloved soul; experiencing the closeness of souls through tender touches of the bodies... that is all so new and so, so beguiling._

_If I let myself, I panic - I can’t relax like this, let my guard down like this, let someone see me weak - I must always be strong and in control. But I’m getting better at silencing that voice - because you are not someone else. You are Sebastian. You are my other half. I can trust you a whole lot more than I can trust myself. So I let myself sink into the sensation of kissing and being kissed, touching and being touched, and am overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it._

I'm so fucking relieved when you stop using your mouth for questions, and just kiss me... and kiss me... and kiss me... oh god... I could do this forever, baby... my dark angel... no one can kiss me like you... no one can do to me what you do... your tongue slides into my mouth, moves slowly against mine... I sigh softly against your mouth... breathe in deeply as your hands glide over my skin... exploring me more profoundly and fully than ever before. My hands caress the smoothness of your skin... I have always loved your skin, alabaster and deceptively silky-soft over hard muscle. Like a stunningly beautiful statue come to life in my arms... You were always so remote, cold, distant... you couldn't be more different now as your hands roam over my body, as you kiss me deeply... mmmm....

 

 

_I feel your hands move more deliberately... oh sweet Tiger, never change... “I’m sorry my love, I know it’s our honeymoon and we’re a bit behind on the ‘every room’ bit, but I’m so utterly exhausted... I’ll make it up to you.” Disappointment crosses your face quickly, but is immediately replaced by concern. “I think I’d like to try to sleep... I have no idea what it will be like, so I’ll apologize in advance if I wake you up screaming or something... or maybe you will... I have no idea but I’m so incredibly tired... Shall we go up?”_

 

 

"Of course, baby... whatever you want." I kiss you on the lips. "I'm just going to make a sandwich to bring with me- I don't want you to be alone. Are you hungry for anything? Thirsty?" You shake your head no, and I ignore this and throw together a tray of sandwiches and ginger ales to bring up with us. You eye the tray as we climb up the stairs, and my lips quirk.

When we're in the bedroom, I get you into bed, and you smile and tell me to stop fussing. "But I enjoy it, babe - would you take that away from me?" I pout, and you roll your eyes. I bring the tray to the bed, and begin to eat. I coax you to take two bites, and I watch you sip your ginger ale, looking more relaxed than traumatized. I breathe a sigh of relief. When I go to pick up your sandwich, you snatch it away from me and have another bite.

 

 

_Sweet caring Tiger... always looking after me. You’d have made a great dad... Where did that thought come from?! Good grief, you’re not starting to think of children on your honeymoon, are you? How cliché can you get? No, fortunately I’m not... I don’t know where that thought came from... I’m just so tired... you do make a great babysitter for disturbed criminal psychopaths though. I finish the sandwich and my ginger ale - both seem soothing to my upset stomach, and having something in there, warm and cozy cuddled together in the middle of the giant bed, I feel something approaching relaxed. I yawn and snuggle up to you; you put the tray away and hold me in your arms. I shoot out a prayer to whichever deity will listen that the night will not be too eventful... I could so do with a rest... But my Tiger is here, and he’ll keep any threats at bay... I can relax... I’m asleep in seconds._

 

 

I stay awake for a long time, listening to you breathe. Eventually, I drift off, despite my best efforts- but I wake up frequently throughout the night. I can't help it - the thought of you imprisoned in a bad dream - or worse, another flashback - is too much for me to bear. I look at the clock for about the millionth time - 3:03... this night is going to last forever...

I wake up with a start. 6:03... didn't mean to sleep for so long. I look over at you, and I'm shocked to see you sitting up in bed working away on your laptop.

"Babe... what are you doing?" I ask.

You don't look up, and continue tapping away. "Babe?" I speak louder. "What are you doing??"

"Building an international space station - what does it look like." You're staring straight ahead, and then you look over, annoyed. " _Babe?_ Seriously? Someone's getting awfully familiar..."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean - my _employees_ don't get to call me cute little pet names. No matter _how_ special they think they are." you sneer, and return to typing.

"But... I'm not just your employee, I'm your-" I protest.

"Employee with benefits? Fuckable bodyguard? I'll put a stop to that if you call me _babe_ again... Jesus, Moran..."

I blink. "Moran?"

You glare. "Did you bump your head and forget your own name? What is the _matter_ with you?"

My heart starts to pound. Did I? Was I dreaming about getting married? Holy hell, was I _dreaming_?? I jump up and grab your arms, and you shove me off.

" _Christ_ , Moran-"

"Did you fake your suicide? Did you come back?" I ask urgently.

"Wait- _did_ you bump your head?" You look curious, and then roll your eyes. "You're of no use to me in this condition. Go to a doctor, and get them to fix you."

"Did you come back from the fucking dead?!" I shout.

"YES, I DID!!" you shout back, looking furious. "And _God_ , the caterwauling I had to put up with from you!!"

"WHEN?" I demand.

"A WEEK AGO!! Now if you're finished with your little meltdown... I have work to do, and there's no time to play therapist to broken Tigers or amnesiac Tigers, or whatever the hell you have going on..." you gesture carelessly with your hand. "Piss off."

I back away from you. No... it can't have been a dream... you _can't_ be back...

"NO..."

You look at me and laugh in disbelief. "No?? Do you really want to go there, _babe_?"

 "I dreamed we were together..." I say brokenly.

You throw your head back and laugh louder. "Oh, that is too wonderful..." You put your laptop aside, grinning. "All right, tell me everything... Did we take romantic walks on a beach? Did I tell you I loved you, and promise to be with you forever, and you cried, and I cried, and it was oh so beautiful?"

I look down, and tears start flowing. I can't have lost you... I _can't_....

"Oooh, Sebastian... will you marry me and make me happy and healthy and whole? I don't want to be a mean old psychopath any more - save me with your love, Sebbie! Saaave meee!" You shriek, and look incredulously at me. "Dream on, my dear... just keep your romantic delusions to yourself. Now get me a coffee, and clear out. I've wasted enough time on you." you look at me disdainfully, and return to your laptop again.

I get up, and stumble backwards. I don't think I can do this... I can't go back to this... I can't go back to him...

You look up from typing, looking bored. "But I'm all you've got, Sebastian... what other choice do you have?"

I stumble back farther and farther, until I reach the stairs - but when I look back, I'm backing towards a cliff, and I'm teetering on the edge, and I'm falling back, back, back... and the last thing I hear is you yelling, "Where's my coffee, Sebastian??" - and I wake with a start.

I look at the clock: 6:03. I panic, and look over at you. You're sleeping peacefully – not working on your laptop. But when you wake up... who will you be??

 

\---------------------------------End of Book 3------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've enjoyed Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, be sure to check out the next work in the series: Paradise Lost!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987896/chapters/37298201


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